If I Knew the Way
by Escaped
Summary: An attack on Hogwarts leaves the Order with no choice but to seek outside assistance... from Severus Snape's oldest friend.
1. Default Chapter

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If I Knew the Way

There is a road, no simple highway

Between the dawn and the dark of night

And if you go no one may follow

The path is for your steps alone.

You who choose to lead must follow,

But if you fall, you fall alone.

If you should stand, then who's to guide you?

If I knew the way I would take you home.

-Ripple- The Grateful Dead

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Chapter One: Now and Then

Firelight glinted off of copper hair, setting it alight, making her as easy to locate in the crowded common room as the fire itself. She straddled a chair backward, arms thrown carelessly over the backrest and skirt hiked up beyond the point of decency.

Severus leaned on the doorframe in the shadows and shook his head slightly as he watched her, a rare smile playing around his mouth. Emily Grey was surrounded by a cloud of smoke and her usual crowd of admirers, holding an animated conversation about her latest triumph in a long line of waywardness, laughing raucously, and giving a burly boy a patronizing pat on the cheek at something he'd said.

"I swear, Goyle," she began in her warm, husky voice, "if you were any thicker..." She smiled mischievously.

"But... the runes were yours," he said tentatively, looking around for support from his fellows. His only answer was the shady laughter of amused Slytherins.

"They could've been mine, yes," she answered sweetly, the laughter still coloring her tone, "but I'm not the only one with an aptitude for rune casting at this school. Someone else could've done it."

"Someone else with a grudge against Potter and Black?" drawled a highly cultured voice from the back of the room. "I don't think so." Lucius Malfoy's entrance silenced the laughter immediately, and every face lost it's smile, save for one.

Emily turned a charming grin on the house prefect, and blew a steady stream of smoke in his general direction. "Hello, precious. I wondered when you'd crash the party."

"Put that damned thing out this instant, Miss Grey," he snapped.

She swung out of her perch and sidled toward the tall, white-blonde wizard, taking a long pull on her cigarette. Tossing it at his feet, she raised her eyebrows in invitation. With a wave of his hand, the end flared white-hot and curled in on itself in an instant. Her eyes went wide at the display of power, then creased as another laugh escaped her lips.

"Lucius, you are a nasty little gremlin, aren't you?" she purred. "What has you in such high spirits this fine evening?"

"An unruly element in my house, Miss Grey, a little girl I can't seem to control."

"Oh, I imagine you'd love to control me, wouldn't you?" she whispered, sliding closer so that they couldn't be overheard. "I can see it in those ice-cold eyes every time you turn them on me, Malfoy." She leaned in and looked up, placing her mouth mere inches from his, and he held his ground staring arrogantly down, daring her. After a moment, she smiled sweetly and walked past, holding her hand out to Severus.

"Hello, Sev," she greeted warmly. "How'd your research go?"

"Quite well, thank you," he replied quietly. "If rumor serves, you also had a productive evening."

She chuckled lightly. "They had it coming."

Severus remained somber. "They know it was you, Emily."

"I sure as hell hope so," she retorted. "It would've been a wasted effort otherwise." She steered him into a chair at the back of the room and pulled her own very close until their heads were mere inches away from one another. "Now they know, no one trifles with my Severus, and I'm sure they'll be contemplating that over many hours of detention." A small hand, rough from hours on a broomstick, cupped his cheek lovingly.

"I can take care of myself, you know," he replied seriously. "Setting that trap for them was dangerous. You could have gotten into serious trouble."

"You know I'd risk anything for you, Sev."

His eyes darted to Malfoy and a few others who looked on, some with loathing and others with unbridled jealousy. "That is unnecessary, and unwelcome." He pulled her hand away gently and held it in his own. "You know that I can't do this," he whispered, deep voice thick with regret. "Your father would never forgive me... or you."

Her smile, undaunted until that moment, melted and a look of pain that broke his heart took its place. "My father will force me to marry Malfoy or Black or that lunatic, Crouch. He only sees the union of bloodlines. He doesn't see my heart, that it belongs to you." He turned his face away before she could see the anguish in his eyes, and she turned it back with a gentle touch. "I love you, Severus. I can't just walk away knowing that there's a chance."

"There isn't," he managed to reply steadily. "Emily, you have to grow up. You must realize that, because of your family's position, what your heart feels means nothing, and love is... less than meaningless. As precious as you are to me, I can't allow you to compromise your future..."

* * *

"...future of Hogwarts is at stake. I will not risk my school, my students, or my staff because you have suddenly decided that my judgment is clouded.," Albus Dumbledore scolded the wizards at the corner of the table, the uncharacteristic sternness of his voice shaking Severus out of his reverie. "Yes. She was convicted of murder," he continued, "and she was sentenced to life in Azkaban. Yes. She is dangerous, but we need her. With the school completely inaccessible and our Runes instructor missing, we have no other option. Severus, because he is acquainted with her, and because his duties to the Order are somewhat lightened of late, will accompany her every moment. There is no need for this excessive concern."

"And how can you be certain that our turncoat can be trusted with his ex-girlfriend?"

Dumbledore opened his mouth to respond, but a black-velvet voice cut him off. "Need I remind you, Lupin, that there is only one man at this table who has blatantly lied for the sake of a convicted murderer." Black eyes glittered dangerously in the firelight as Remus stood abruptly.

"Enough!" Albus snapped. "If nothing else, I will be happy to have the two of you separated for a time while this disaster is sorted out.

"Severus, you are expected at Azkaban tomorrow morning.," he continued in more subdued tones. "The behavior analyst from the Ministry will meet you there."

Snape cringed. _Behavior analyst_. The people who lacked so much humanity that they could readily spend every day at Azkaban "analyzing" the criminally insane were not likely to be the finest escorts. He would sooner spend the morning with a dementor.

A brief wave of nausea rolled through his stomach as he allowed himself a moment of dread for the upcoming task. Spending the summer cooped up in Hogwarts was bad enough. Doing so while playing prison guard for what was left of the only woman he'd ever cared for was enough to drive him as insane as she.

With a subtle sigh and a nod to Dumbledore, he was off.

* * *

Severus dropped his head forward immediately after apparating, allowing his hair to form a natural barrier to the early-morning sunlight. _Mab's heart_, these garish mornings were murder on his eyes!

"Ah, Professor Snape," called an older, unsavory-looking man from the front gate of the prison. "I'm Mr. Thomas. You're here for the prisoner, Emily Grey."

Severus eyed him warily. "I am well aware of my reason for coming, sir, and you may dispense with the pleasantries."

The older man gave him a brief nod, then led him through the gates without another word.

Down dark, twisted corridors they moved steadily, Severus forcing himself to lessen the speed and length of his usual stride for the sake of his shorter companion. Somehow, though, he didn't need direction. He found his way to her cell three steps ahead of Mr. Thomas as though he had known the way for years.

Once there, however, he froze just shy of the door, needing a few moments to stop and collect himself, to bring to the forefront of his thoughts, not the girl he had known, but the woman she had become. To forget that would be foolish, and Severus, no matter what his feelings for her may once have been, was not a foolish man.

"This is it, Professor," prompted his escort, clearly ready to be rid of the surly visitor.

Severus gave a short nod, his eyes never leaving the heavy wooden door. "Open it... then leave us alone."

The man gave an irritated sigh. "As you like, Professor, but talking to her won't do you any good. She hasn't said a word these sixteen years. Probably wouldn't so much as moan if you gave her a good, hard..."

"Finish that sentence, and they will never find your remains," Severus interrupted coldly, a deadly promise gleaming in his black eyes. Thomas took a step back, reaching for his wand, but Snape's was already in hand, glowing slightly in the dim light. "Just open the door. I will deal with Miss Grey."

Silently, the man did as he was instructed and stepped back as Severus ducked his head to enter through the low door into the tiny, stone cell.

The miniscule window near the ceiling was so heavily warded that only a hint of sunlight made it through, and Severus had to stop to give his eyes a moment to adjust. There, in the shadows, crouched a gaunt figure, silent and unmoving, and it was to this that he turned his attention.

Two steps brought him across the cell to the skeletal woman huddled on the damp, stone floor, knees hugged to her chest. Kneeling before the filthy creature, he called her name softly.

She made no response, lifeless eyes staring listlessly at the floor between them.

He took a breath. Tried again.

"Emily, it's Severus. Look at me."

Nothing.

Again.

A muscle in his jaw tightened, released, then tightened again as a long-fingered hand reached for her slowly, tentatively. He fully expected her to start, or raise her eyes, or even scream, but if she even knew he was there, she gave no indication. Carefully, he tilted her head back, brightened the light of his wand, and lifted her shadowed eyelid.

A second later, he shouted angrily for his reluctant escort.

The man responded quickly, but remained standing, hovering over them both as if somehow superior.

"What the hell are you giving her?" Severus snapped.

"A mild sedative," Thomas answered calmly.

Snape widened her eye and peered more closely, then looked up. "This is mild?" he questioned, a dangerous edge to his voice. "She's no good to me comatose."

"This one is... difficult to control, sir," he hedged.

"And, _this_ is your answer?" Severus seethed.

The man crouched down and snatched her hand away from her knees, angrily jerking her bony arm to its full length and turning it over to expose the wrist. "Because _this_ is hers," he replied heatedly.

The flesh was gruesomely scarred, marked from wrist to elbow with long, jagged lines as if cut with some object that was much less than sharp. Obviously, she had made more than one attempt at suicide. Halfway between, though, as if nothing could separate it or its associations from her, was the Dark Mark, as black and flawless as the day it was burned into her flesh.

Severus turned his head away to compose himself as the man continued.

"I keep her sedated to keep her alive," he said simply.

"And, you keep her alive to keep your position at the Ministry," Severus added sourly.

"Professor, this woman killed her own brother in cold blood." Thomas stood and brushed his robes stiffly. "If you harbor any feelings for her at all, be glad that it's my job to keep her breathing. I'm one of the many who feels that life in Azkaban is too damn good for her."

Severus stood as well and stared coldly for a moment before he felt calm enough to speak. "I'm taking her out of here, now. Send the papers to Albus. I'm sure he'll be happy to finalize this transaction while I begin the arduous task of undoing the damage your negligence has wrought."

With that, he crouched back down, cradled her in his arms, and left the man in stunned silence.

Thomas had to jog to catch up, then followed him down the hallway, arguing that he should levitate his burden.

Severus looked down in disgust at the wasted woman in his arms. "I have first year girls who weigh more than this. What are you feeding her?"

"She doesn't eat," Thomas replied with a shrug. "It happens after a while, but this one had to be force-fed from the beginning. Now, I just force a nourishing potion down her throat every other day."

Severus bit back his response, knowing that, if he allowed one word, he would shred the man to pieces. The rest of the journey was spent in silence, Severus stubbornly carrying his oldest and dearest friend through the dark labyrinth to freedom.

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	2. Chapter Two: Taking Care

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Chapter Two: Taking Care

Apparating back home with Emily in his arms felt like something out of a dream for Severus. On the one hand, he rejoiced in having her out of that filthy, dank hole of a prison and felt no shame in that. On the other, what exactly he had rescued was uncertain as yet. She had made neither move nor sound during the trip back out of Azkaban, merely turned her face to his shoulder when they encountered the violent sunlight.. And, now that he had this silent, unresponsive creature in his home, he had no clue how to begin.

With his incredible potions skills, Severus could have been one of the world's greatest mediwizards, but care-taking had, to say the least, never been his specialty. Truth be told, without Albus and Minerva's constant badgering, he probably wouldn't even take care of himself.

A deep inhale gave him to know, unquestionably, what his first order of business had to be.

Merlin knew how long it had been since she'd had a bath, (her "analyst" probably relied on third-rate cleansing spells) but it was long enough that her hair, once the color of autumn leaves in the early-morning sunlight was a greasy, foul-smelling, rust-colored mess that made his own locks look like an advertisement for grooming potions. It was far easier than it should've been to continue carrying her through the foyer, up the stairs, and to his bath, talking softly all the while.

When they reached their destination, he conjured a soft chair for her to rest in while he ran a warm bath and summoned a nest of clean towels. The act of disrobing her was one he had dreamed of for most of his adolescent and some of his adult life, but the circumstances of fantasy had been very different from this.

The rank, threadbare shirt practically fell to pieces when he gave it a solid tug, and the trousers fared little better. She wore nothing underneath, and he shuddered to see a body that had once been an object of desire for almost every male in Hogwarts reduced to sallow, nearly translucent, skin and bone.

Once she had been immersed fully in the bath, he heard, to his great delight, a small, hoarse sound which might have been a moan escape her throat, and Severus smiled, a genuine expression of happiness that few had ever seen. At the first touch of a soft, soapy sponge, she sighed and the corners of her mouth turned ever-so-slightly upwards. He took it as an encouraging sign, and continued until she was literally squeaky from head to toe, enjoying a thoroughly unexpected satisfaction from the task.

"Do you recall," he began softly as he sat her on the cushioned stool, and began to pat her dry, "the incident at the Yule Ball in our sixth year when you spiked the professors' punchbowl with a potion that diminished inhibitions? I never told you this but, later that night, Lucius caught Albus and Minerva having an exceedingly inappropriate encounter in the Astronomy tower. So involved were they, in fact, that they didn't even notice him pass by. It ruined his rather substantial sexual appetite for a month." Snape chuckled softly. "Served him right, I suppose. He was ridiculously randy."

He dried her hair with a wave of his wand, and stood back to survey his work. She was not pretty by any means, she was in fact rather difficult to look upon, a haunted, emaciated thing, but at least she was clean, and her hair was auburn once again. It was a start.

He reached up to brush a stray lock of hair from her eyes and stopped, drawing the hand back reflexively. It was uncomfortable enough that she was completely naked in his presence. That, at least, was necessary. There was no need whatsoever for intimate gestures.

It would be prudent to remind himself, as well, that this was not exactly a rescue. Indeed, he had only borrowed her to perform a dangerous, time-consuming task. Assuming he could restore her well enough to be of use, she would serve The Order's purpose, then return to her cell in Azkaban with nothing save a slightly shortened sentence and perhaps a few amenities.

That was damnably easy to forget.

Predictably, she offered no hint of struggle or protest when he scooped her back up and carried her to the guest room. It had, thankfully, been made habitable by Liri, the resident house elf in his newly-acquired dwelling. It took only a short time to make her comfortable in the bed before sweeping from the room, but several minutes to ward the door with enchantments specifically designed to negate runic magic... just in case. For now, there were potions to brew and spells to research, but for one fragile moment, he rested his forehead against the door and imagined that the woman inside was still his Emily, and she had finally come home.

* * *

Headmaster,

I have collected Miss Grey from Azkaban, and she is, regrettably, in worse condition than we anticipated. Not only is she physically malnourished, but her mind, as well, seems to have withered from the lack of stimulation and an over-abundance of sedatives.

Presently, she is resting comfortably in a heavily warded chamber, and I am finishing several physical and mental restoratives of considerable potency. Should they yield the expected results, she and I will be at Hogwarts within the week.

Sincerely,

S. Snape

* * *

_Severus,_

Allow me to, once again, extend my thanks to you for accepting this undoubtedly awkward undertaking. You are one of the few whom I would trust with a task of this magnitude. I sensed in your last letter that you are unhappy with Miss Grey's condition for more than academic reasons, and I must remind you to remember your duty to The Order in this assignment. Your relationship with Miss Grey is no longer social.

I know that you were convinced of her innocence, and until she openly admitted her guilt I feared that you would betray your assignment and tell the Ministry what you knew of her relationship with Voldemort in an effort to aid her. What you told me those many years ago was correct. Her actions made little sense; however, you also told me how irrational she had become since taking the Mark. You are well aware of the madness that comes with that kind of power.

Keep me updated on your progress with her, and if it seems a lost cause, Severus, leave it be. Take her back to Azkaban. It is still possible that I could somehow find the time to undo the damage to the school myself. Perhaps I could have Minerva head he Order in my absence. It would, admittedly, be tremendously problematical, but not utterly impossible.

I do, however, have great faith in your potions. I am also well-acquainted with your formidable will, as it has driven me near to madness on more than one occasion. I'm certain that it will prove useful when dealing with your ward.

Sincerely,

Albus Dumbledore

* * *

Severus dropped the letter onto the desk and rubbed his weary eyes. Albus _would_ choose just the words to make him feel like some wayward child who needed reminding of his chores. Honestly, it was as if he hadn't aged since his days as Dumbledore's student. Of course, the older wizard did consider him to be something of an adopted son. That was what had drawn Severus away from the darkness and to his side in the first place. Still, it was infuriating to have him insinuate that he was in any way controlled by emotion. Were his feelings any factor at all, he would have stayed with Emily, no matter what her father thought of his bloodline.

But Snape had stepped aside, all because he was so damnably rational, and it had devastated both of them; made him cold and bitter, and her... well, no one really understood _what_ had happened to her. One day she was his Emily, mischievous and cunning, the next, she was a hateful, bloodthirsty fiend.

But, something strange had happened that night with her brother, Eric. Gryffindor though he was, they were close, as close as those damned Weasley twins. She had nearly lost her life three nights prior because she refused Voldemort's order to take his, and The Dark Lord's response had been to torture their father to death. Well, not Voldemort, personally. Lucius, Severus, and Bellatrix had done the actual work.

There was no understanding what had happened during those three days, and Emily had not bothered explaining. The Dark Mark had been enough to damn her in the courts, but her affirmative answer to the question of whether she had killed Eric had earned her a life sentence.

Severus pinched the bridge of his nose. It had been, without a doubt, the worst day of his life, the day of her trial. Dumbledore had forbade him from speaking in her defense, knowing that it would ruin his credibility as a Death Eater, and consequently his position as a spy. Even if he had testified on her behalf, she had admitted her guilt freely. There was nothing that anyone could do to save her from her fate.

"I'm sorry, Severus," Albus had said kindly as they led her away, "but she is a murderer."

Snape had given him a long, hard glare before answering. "So am I."

* * *

Emily woke within an unusually pleasant dream. She was clean and warm and rested on a soft, sweet-smelling bed. The drapes were drawn, and a gentle light filtered through, creating a golden glow on the polished wood floor. Vaguely, she recalled a soft, deep voice sliding over her like a velvet blanket, and hoped that this dream would include the owner. It had been an eternity since she'd heard a kind voice... even in her own head.

* * *

Severus scowled down at the listless woman, wondering how exactly to go about doing this. He certainly had no plan to 'force the potions down her throat' as Thomas had, but she seemed incapable of taking them herself. He rolled his eyes at the ridiculousness of the situation. Why in the name of all that was magical was there not a spell for introducing a potion into a subject's bloodstream without imbibing it? He made a mental note to create one just as soon as this disaster was sorted out. A muggle syringe might work, but he had very little expertise in the use of medical equipment, much less the non-magical variety, and feared he might do more harm than good with one those contraptions.

In the end, he simply propped her against his arm, tilted her head back, poured the first dose in her mouth... and ground his teeth when she spat it back out.

_Obstinate witch_! _It's not that bad_!

Well, it seemed her stubbornness had remained unchanged, at least.

A single eyebrow arched as he watched the potion that had taken three days to brew drip down the stone wall. "You should know, Emily," he intoned dryly, "that, including unpaid wagers from our seventh year, those wasted ingredients bring your total debt to me to over three hundred and fifty galleons. At some point, I shall expect you to pay me."

For a brief moment, he considered several complex options, but his Slytherin nature won out in the end. With a smirk of dark satisfaction, he drew his wand, placed the tip between her eyes, and spoke.

"Imperio."

It was no great achievement. Her mind was so unguarded at present that Neville Longbottom could've managed to put her under the Imperius curse. Still, the results were very satisfying. With a modicum of illegal coercion, she took the next two potions eagerly as he murmured encouragement, still supporting her nearly-insubstantial weight in his arms.

* * *

Three days later, she was a bit more difficult to support, and he was greatly pleased. It was not for nothing that Severus Snape was one of the most world-renown potion masters. These particular marvels of magic had been his own impromptu devising. Indeed, he had practically formulated them as they brewed. It was not normally the way he worked, but necessity _was_ the mother of invention, and the damage to the school had inspired him to utilize his mind as he hadn't done in years.

_How wonderful_, he thought, stirring one of many bubbling cauldrons in his workroom, _to face a challenge, again_. He'd spent nearly every waking minute of the past few days doing what he loved best, and he had the travesty of the school and Emily's lamentable condition to thank for it. He smiled. One of the perks of not having much of a conscience was that one didn't have to endure its constant nagging. He wasn't thrilled about the school being attacked, but no one had been hurt and it had given him a chance to see Emily again. He had determined as well that, before he sent her back to Azkaban, he would know the reason for her brother's death.

Carefully, he poured the still-boiling potion into a large goblet and headed back upstairs. This would be the first of the mental restoratives, and he was confident that it would work as well as his other potions had. Soon, Emily would be something like herself again. He didn't know whether to look forward to that time or dread it. _One anxiety at a time, Severus_, he counseled himself, swinging the door open and stepping inside.

What he saw there was the first thing to give him serious pause in many long years.

Emily was up, standing at the window with the curtains drawn back and blinking hard into the afternoon sun. At the sound of the closing door, she turned, wide-eyed and visibly shaking.

"Emily," he breathed.

She took a tiny step back, and he fought the urge to close the distance. It wouldn't do to frighten her any more. It was best to maintain his distance until he could get into her mind and find out exactly what was going on inside.

"Who are you?" she managed to rasp, then doubled over, coughing violently from the effort.

He was at her side in a heartbeat.

* * *

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Lady Jenilyn: Thank you so much for your unfailing support! Without your encouragement, I'm not sure that I would've even posted this second chapter. Yes, Emily did use her gift with runes to get James and Sirius into trouble, and I'll expand on that later on in the story. The story of Hogwarts and what's happened there is coming as well. Emily did seem to have that "bad-girl" thing going on, didn't she? There's a reason for that. I find it interesting that you view her as being older than she's meant to be. That scene was supposed to occur in their fifth year, by the way, shortly after the whole incident that we saw in Snape's pensieve in OOTP. Sorry about your problem with the Astronomy Tower. They sound as though they're awfully picky. I hope it's worth the effort. I HOPE this turns out to be even remotely cool. The idea was really groovy in theory. If it doesn't pan out on the screen, I think I'll cry. And I hope my other friends find me soon. I miss them.

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Queen of the Faeries 1: Oh, I'm so glad to see you! Thanks for the review. Since so many people have requested it, I will definitely be continuing the Not For Sale line of stories. In my head, Alex has already started another huge adventure with Lucius and Severus, but I'd like to get this story out of my head and onto the screen before it drives me insane! Hope you enjoy it.

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Quietude: Thank you so much for reviewing! And, I appreciate your review of the last chapter of The Side I'm Always On, as well. I'm happy to see you here. As you expressed an interest in Alex's lack of submission and your own personal bloodlust, (good for you for not being ashamed) I'd be happy to e-mail the alternate ending to you. You might like the first version better. Let me know!


	3. Chapter Three: Recognition

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Chapter Three: Recognition

"Emily, Madam Coats is going to kill you," a thirteen-year-old Severus whispered. "Then, she'll kill me for letting you do it."

Emily shook the hair from her face as she laughed. "Severus Snape! As if you could let me do anything. Now, back up."

"Emily," Severus grasped the broom firmly, "you know that thing I'm always nagging you about?"

She rolled her eyes.

"You're doing it again," he finished with a single raised eyebrow, the late-night shadows casting his face in sharp relief.

"Being stupid or reckless?" she asked with a smirk.

"Both," he answered tightly. "We can try this over the holidays at home. Now, get off that broom."

With a wicked grin, she kicked off the ground and shot away at breakneck speed, much more rapidly than the school's old Hermes broom should have been capable, but the inscription of several runes of speed and agility using a Fleet-of-Foot potion Severus had brewed as extra credit had turned it into a dangerously fast means of transportation. She blew past him like a hurricane wind, much too close to the ground.

"You should know better than to give me orders, Sevikins," she called.

He ground his teeth at the insufferable nickname, but could do little to stop her, short of cursing the broom out of the sky. Had it been anyone else, he would have. For now, he just watched her fly with admitted pride at how well the combination of potions and runes was working. They had been discussing the theory for a year, having stumbled upon one of Lord Grey's books on combining fields of magic. Here was proof that it could work with amazing results. The broom was remarkably swift and... flying far too close to that new whomping willow, he noticed with increasing alarm. What the hell was she doing?

She dodged a swinging branch, looped around another with a wild whoop of elation, and Severus drew his wand. He was going to have to get her off that broom before she got herself killed. Period. The fall would be dangerous, but if he could slow her before she reached the ground...

Crunch!

Severus stopped breathing as Emily and what was left of the broom fell from the sky in slow motion.

Long legs carried him across the clearing in an instant and he dragged her inert body to safety with a tendril of magic just as the whomping willow sent a low-hanging branch to finish the job.

She had refused to go to the hospital wing, though he was certain she'd bruised or possibly even cracked a rib and sprained her wrist. When questioned about it, she informed him that, unless they had something for her wounded pride, she saw no need in going.

Two days later, Snape scrubbed his face with his hands as she mounted her broom for the Quidditch game against Ravenclaw as if nothing had happened.

"Hey, you! Mopey!" she called softly to a brooding Snape. "Hand me my club, will you?"

He reluctantly passed the beater's club to her and she tucked it between her knees as she finished tying her hair back. "I can't believe you're going to play today," he murmured, trying to keep the conversation private.

"Sev, don't worry," she whispered, running a hand through his black hair. "You rescued me from certain death. I'm fine... and very grateful." She gave his forehead a quick kiss. "I'm a quick healer, love."

* * *

It was the first time she'd ever called him that, and he discouraged it from that point, but it made no difference. His reticence to be called something he could never be only goaded her to continue.

She had been right about one thing, though. Having come from a long line of highly athletic aurors, she was, indeed, a very quick healer.

Presently, however, she was crouched on the floor in his arms, catching her breath as he held a glass of water to her lips, trying to get her to drink. Finally, she pulled herself together enough to take a small sip. She paused, winced, then took a larger one, still breathing far too rapidly for his comfort.

"Emily, you shouldn't be up," he scolded softly, sliding his arm under her knees and lifting her from the floor with considerably more difficulty than before. She was rapidly gaining weight, and looking healthier by the hour as the potions did their work. There was no excuse, though, for her to be roaming about on her own, not in her weakened condition.

"I don't..." she began gutturally.

"Don't talk," he interrupted sternly, tucking a down-filled blanket around her . "Not yet."

She studied him with a curious expression, as if she were trying to work out a complex diagram. He let her eyes wander over him, hoping that she'd answer her own question about his identity. That, at least would show that her mind hadn't been damaged as badly as he feared.

But, soon, she seemed to give up, turning her face to the wall with a heavy sigh and snuggling further under the cover. He had imbued the bed with a warming spell two days ago when her body had refused to stop shivering. It was as if, now that she'd been reminded of what warmth was, she couldn't get enough.

His gaze wandered from woman to potion for a moment. Now that she was semi-coherent, it seemed a shame to use the Imperius curse to control her, but he couldn't count on her understanding how precious these next potions were, and how time-consuming. He had only made three, to be taken in order every six hours. If any of them were wasted, the result would be... well, unpredictable, and that was unacceptable to the potions master.

First, it would be prudent to find out what kind of mindset she was in. To that effect, he knelt unobtrusively by her bedside, and crept quietly into her thoughts.

Immediately, he wished he hadn't. Emily's mind, once a home to some of the greatest pranks in Hogwarts history, had become a place of nightmares. It was dark and freezing cold, filled with things which crawled across his skin and skittered around his head. There was someone screaming in the distance, but he couldn't see to get to the source.

Occasionally, there were flashes of his face as a youth and Eric's, but there was no cohesiveness to the thought patterns themselves. A vision of her father, bleeding from the mouth and ears with Death Eaters standing over him seemed to sweep toward him. His own face was highlighted among the others, younger, grim, and cold as stone. Gods, was that how she had seen him? Surely, as long as they had known one another, she knew how it had hurt him to have to kill a man who had only ever treated him with kindness.

The vision swept not past him, but through him, leaving the echo of malicious laughter in its wake.

Then there was her brother, Eric, shouting something unintelligible. He shoved her viciously and she shoved him back, but it wasn't Eric who moved. It was Severus. He stumbled back a few paces, then found himself on his back beside the bed where he had knelt. The magic still pushed at him, but much less aggressively now. Her point was made. She didn't want him in her head, especially not within that particular memory. He cursed silently as he realized what he had likely been witnessing: her last moments with her brother. The answer to his questions lay buried within that memory. He had half a mind to go back in there and force it out of her, but it was a fleeting thought, driven by temper. He would no more do that to Emily than she would have done it to him. Some things were sacred among friends.

His determination was redoubled, now, though. If he could rekindle some vestige of herself, perhaps he could convince her to talk to him, to explain why she had killed Eric, why she had not even tried to defend herself at her trial. For too long, he had lived without knowing. That ended here. The time had come for Emily to come out of hiding, and give some long-overdue answers.

He stood, lifted his wand calmly, and placed her under his control.

"Sit up, Emily," he ordered sternly.

With an effort, she was able to follow his command. Severus pushed aside his reflexive desire to aid her. If she was to regain her strength, she would need to be left to her own devices. Her muscles were rebuilding far too slowly for his own satisfaction, and having wasted that first stamina potion, she'd compromised her energy level. The new one was still brewing.

He held out the goblet of Clarity Potion. "Be careful with this. It's still hot."

She sipped it carefully as he watched in hopeful silence, and slowly, almost unbearably so, her eyes cleared and widened as if the sudden lucidity frightened her. Absently, she lowered the goblet and looked around, blinking as if she'd just been startled out of a daydream.

"Keep drinking, Emily," Severus prompted impatiently.

She did as she was bid and Severus mused as he watched her. If he had known the Imperius curse early on, he would have been spared the world of trouble she was known to cause. This time, he swore he wouldn't hesitate to employ it if she even hinted that she planned to step out of line.

Finally, the goblet was emptied and he took it from her grasp. With a slowly-drawn deep breath, he released her from the spell.

She raised her head and looked at him.

Not the hazy way she'd glanced at him since he brought her from prison, but with mint-green eyes, bright and curious.

"Hello, Emily," he said finally, uncomfortable with the way she stared in silence.

She opened her mouth to speak and he put a finger to her lips. "No. I have a potion brewing that will aid you in that endeavor. In the meantime..." He touched his wand, first to his head, then to her own, stringing a thin line of silver between them like a spider's web. "Conligatio Mentis," he said softly.

It was a simple spell for binding two minds together for the purpose of silent communication, but as soon as he uttered it, he was overwhelmed with the mental rampage going on behind her deceptively peaceful eyes. It took him a moment to slip in a word among the deafening noise.

"_Emily_," he sent the thought toward her, hoping to break in, but the riot in her head would not be so easily quelled. "_Emily, stop this_!" he shouted inside her mind. The noise lessened a bit. "_If I can't hear myself think, I certainly can't communicate with you_." The noise settled a bit more, and as he listened a soft, hesitant voice cut through the inane mumbling and muttering in the distance.

_"Who are you?" _she asked timidly, clearly frightened.

_"Do you not know?" _he responded. _"Do you recall the first time you linked your mind with someone else's?"_

He deliberately played a scene for her from his own memories, a memory that only she shared: the time they'd done this far-too-advanced enchantment at the tender age of twelve. To their surprise and delight, it had worked. Unfortunately, they found themselves unable to break the spell, and for several days neither of them had the luxury of a private thought. It had been a revealing experience to say the least, one in which they had gained a great deal of sympathy and understanding for one another.

She knitted her brow, then opened her mouth into a small 'o' as she lifted her hand to his face and traced the lines that two decades of suffering had drawn there. _"It can't be," _her mind whispered to his. He waited for her to recognize him, needed for her to do so without any more prompting, and his patience was rewarded, but not within his mind.

She whispered his name, like a beautiful secret, and when he smiled at the sound, a tiny puddle of tears arose and slid down her cheeks. He brought her head to his shoulder and let her cry.

* * *

Headmaster,

Miss Grey is lucid, now, and much stronger. I am firmly convinced that she can and will assist us in our endeavor, but I must insist on seeking more than we've offered her: a pardon, perhaps, for risking her own life to assist the Order. Should we succeed, she will have earned her freedom. I shall wish to discuss it with you at length when I am not so busy with my charge. Perhaps, in a few days I can arrange to meet you.

In the meantime, please consider what I am asking of you. If I am permitted my freedom after the crimes I have committed: the men, women, and children I have slaughtered, then there is no justice in denying her the same.

Sincerely,

S. Snape

* * *

"Severus."

The voice called patiently, as if expecting to be kept waiting, but Snape was out of bed, wand in hand in an instant. It took an extra moment to focus his mind and realize who was speaking. The face of Albus Dumbledore was unusually stern, though his posture was that of a man who was completely at ease. He didn't even seem to notice the long, black wand pointed at his head.

Snape cleared his throat and lowered his weapon.

"Headmaster, I wasn't expecting you."

"That goes without saying, Severus. But, after reading your last letter, I was concerned." Snape looked taken aback. "Please, sit down," Albus offered, as if Snape was the guest and this were his own home.

Severus simply did as he was asked, too apprehensive to even notice the slight.

"What's happened, Headmaster?"

"Nothing untoward," the elder wizard assured him simply. "Tell me, where is Miss Grey?"

A frown creased the potions master's features. He'd be a fool to not see where this was leading. "Down the hall," he answered firmly. "In _her_ room, in _her_ bed, where she belongs. Where, precisely, did you assume she would be?"

The Headmaster narrowed his eyes, obviously searching Snape's mind, and the potions master allowed it without protest. Apparently relieved at what he saw there, Albus sat back and released a sigh.

"I apologize, Severus, but your letter..." he hesitated, seemed to gather his thoughts. "Severus, what you feel for that girl could compromise this entire venture. Your love for her is so tangible that I could _feel_ it when I unrolled the scroll. Love this strong, for someone you can never be with, is dangerous."

"I cannot deny that I have feelings for her, Headmaster, nor would I. But, I am a grown man, and hardly a helpless victim of my heart," he answered, the last sentence delivered with his customary sneer. "I will see this done, sir. You have no cause for concern."

"I feel that I do, Severus," Dumbledore said gravely. "Still," he added, standing abruptly, "I am not concerned enough to do what I came here to do."

"And, what would that be?" Severus intoned warily.

"I came to remove Miss Grey from your care and return her to Azkaban." He smiled warmly. "My dear boy, you have no idea how relieved I am that I needn't do so."

Snape resisted the urge to pull away when Dumbledore took his shoulder in a surprisingly firm grip. "You're a fine young man, Severus. I'm sorry that I doubted your honor."

"If there is any offense, Headmaster, it is in the insinuation that I have any at all," Snape replied.

Albus chuckled lightly. "Forgive me for waking you, then."

With a wink and nod, he was gone, and Severus sat back with a sigh of relief. He glanced at the clock and stretched stiffly. It was time for the second potion.

* * *

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Ellesar Evenstar: Shame, shame, shame on you! (Shakes a finger at Evenstar) Okay, now pull up a chair, have some tea, and relax. Thanks for your review. I have recently discovered through a fellow author that there are tons of people out there who read and don't review. A great raspberry to all of them! But, I must somehow go on in spite of it. I'm pleased to hear that you find the new story interesting. It's slow moving at the beginning, I know, but it will pick up. I will continue posting this story chapter by chapter until it is finished, I promise you. I would never dump a story in the middle of the telling. That's just wrong. Even if there's only person reading, it's unfair. Too many authors have done that to me, and I hate it. As for the Alex stories, due to popular demand, (boy, does that make me feel good) they will likely continue after this one is finished. Hope to hear from you again. Don't be a stranger!

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Queen of the Faeries: Awww... thank you! I see Severus as being the type of guy who's hiding a lot of tenderness... for the right person. Of course, if you aren't that person, the Fates help you, 'cause he can be vicious. I've had a few people indicate that they're interested in the runic magic thing, so I hope that the concepts I've come up with are satisfactory. You may indeed get a copy of the alternate ending. I'll have The Loaf beta read it as soon as possible and e-mail it to you. Thanks for your interest. I'm flattered. By the way, you've piqued my curiosity. What parts seemed odd?

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emerald sparrow: Thanks! I'm glad you liked it, and I'm also glad to see you here. Hope it continues to hold to your interest.

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Lady Jenilyn: I'm glad that you feel Sev's point of view is pulled off reasonably well. It's challenging to write from his perspective, but really, really fun as well. I've decided to break up the perspective, though, between Sev and Emily just because some parts simply don't read as well through Sev's point of view. I'm glad that you're not offended at seeing his softer side. If you prefer snarky Snape (as I do) he's not far behind, I promise! The bath scene was tough to write, so thanks. I think that Lucius was probably permanently scarred by the nighttime activities of Albus and Minerva, but I thought it was sweet. Go, wrinkly, old people! Make that love! So, you don't want her to go back to Azkaban? Why not? It's so warm and cozy there! Until you started mentioning them, I didn't realize that I had included so many mysteries. Oh, boy! This should be fun! Dumbly is less than fond of our Emily as she is one of the few unrepentant Death Eaters, so I doubt that he would understand what _anyone_ would see in her. Sigh. Those are the squeaky-clean, noble people for you. If the college closes the library and you disappear, I will go crazy! Please, please, please, don't leave me! I'm afraid I've gone and let myself grow fond of you... and your story.

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Quietude 17: Name change is duly noted, but you'll always be my Quietude, the one and only, the one who refuse to use the 'Shift' key... and I've grown to love ya for it. Yes, the plot thickens, and thickens, and thickens as the story moves on... hopefully. Snape was right in there with Voldemort's revenge, yup. Kinda sucks for him as far Emily's opinion of him goes, but by that time... oops! sorry. Can't tell you that, yet. My bad. Snape and Unforgivables/ Unforgiveables and Snape. You can't really have one without the other. The man is a Slytherin through and through... and good for him. I like him that way. I am so glad that you said that! I've been hesitant about the flashbacks, not sure whether they further developed the characters or just took away from the present story. It's nice to have some feedback on that. Yay for me. Thanks! I'll e-mail the alternate ending to you as soon as The Loaf beta reads it, groovy?


	4. Chapter Four: Out of the Cauldron

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Chapter Four: Out of the Cauldron...

A velvet voice cut through the haze of sleep, and Emily moaned.

_No_, she told herself sternly,_ not just a velvety voice_._ It's Severus Snape's voice_. She paused for a moment to consider the implications of being rescued by the only man she'd ever loved, the man who'd murdered her father at Voldemort's command. Angrily, she tamped down the budding frustration. She'd wanted so much to talk to him earlier, to gain some understanding, but she had sobbed for what seemed like an hour as he held her and whispered comfort into her hair. When the tears would come no more, she had collapsed, exhausted. Apparently, he had just let her sleep.

"Emily," he called again, softly, almost lovingly, the way she'd always wanted him to say her name. But Severus was no longer her Severus. He was a different man, and belonged to another, a dark master who did not share. She opened her eyes to an older, more powerful, much more attractive Severus Snape and groaned inwardly.

_Out of the cauldron and into the fire, Emily. That was always your way_.

"We have a great deal to accomplish today," Severus said in what was, for him, an excited tone. "Can you sit up?"

She complied with a monumental effort, and Severus scowled down at her.

"Are you in pain?"

She nodded, not wanting to irk him by speaking.

"Your muscles have deteriorated," he said, unwittingly assuming his classic lecturing voice, "but they'll rebuild rapidly with the potions I've given you. I'll bring an analgesic for the soreness after breakfast." He sat down delicately beside her. "Do you think you're ready for an actual meal today?"

Emily shrugged, looking up in wonder at her old friend. Gods, he was gorgeous! So different from the skinny, awkward kid she'd grown up with. As much as she'd loved him, she'd never actually been attracted to him, but that had most certainly changed. He, however, observed her as he would a simmering potion, with clinical curiosity, occasionally checking her pulse or lifting her eyelids for Merlin knew what reason, completely self-possessed and at ease.

"Thank you..." she rasped, hesitating, not knowing how to address him.

"Severus," he finished for her. "And, I told you not to speak." He could still do that single-arched eyebrow thing that used to make her shrink. Now, she found, it sent a shiver down her spine. "If you're going to insist on doing so, then you should take this first," he announced, selecting a small cup from the tray which had followed him in.

She eyed the brownish liquid with trepidation, then swallowed it with a single gulp. It was surprisingly good, tasted faintly of honey, and was warm and thick going down, coating her throat soothingly. She must've looked as surprised as she felt.

"Not as foul as the others?" Snape asked with a prim pursing of the lips.

She shook her head and said weakly, "No. It's good." She managed to catch his eye despite her nervousness. She could at least be polite while she found out what the hell was going on.

"I imagine that you have questions, Emily, but I need for you to take this restorative first, then we can have breakfast while it clears the cobwebs from your brain."

He passed the second cup from the tray, the same goblet he'd used for the other restorative, she noticed, offhand. Still the same orderly, habitual Severus. Some things never changed, even in... she lowered the cup. "How long have I been there?"

He never batted an eye. "Sixteen years this Yule."

Emily froze. She knew that time had passed, but... _sixteen_ _years_? That couldn't be possible.

But, the deep lines in her old friend's face didn't lie, and as she eyed them carefully, she admitted that it had to be true. Sixteen years of her life gone, and she'd practically begged the courts to do it. _For good reason_, she reminded herself. _You're a Death Eater and a murderer. You don't deserve to live_. She stared disconsolately into the steaming goblet and gave a little sniffle.

"Finish that, Emily," came Snape's crisp order.

"Or you'll what?" she asked dispassionately. "Put me under the Imperius, again?"

He leveled a look at her then that reminded her why she'd come to dread him the last few years she'd known him. "I will do whatever I must to restore your physical and mental health, as I have been charged." He drew his wand casually and rested it on his knee. "But, I would prefer you drink it of your own volition. If you can't pull yourself together again, you'll go straight back to prison, and I will not allow that. If I must control you through this entire assignment, I will."

"We swore we'd never use that on each other," she said quietly, still staring into the cup.

"We promised many foolish things when we were children," Snape replied unrepentantly, "but we are children no more, Emily... and there's work to be done."

_Oh, no_. So, that was the pill in all this jam.

She drained the cup in one long swallow and placed it indelicately on the bedside table. Her eyes remained on his wand as her breath caught in her chest. She had to get this out in the open before he went any further.

"I'm not going back, Severus," she stated as firmly as she could, raising her gaze to his and forcing it to remain.

"You needn't," he replied. "I am attempting to arrange a full pardon for your services to..."

"Not to prison," she interrupted testily, "to _him._ I am _never_ going back to him." Her eyes returned involuntarily to his wand. She'd witnessed some foul deeds at the tip of that wand, in _his_ service. It was terrifying, the thought that it might be turned on her for her refusal, perhaps to force her to serve against her will. "I made that perfectly clear the last time he summoned me."

He scowled at her, clearly not understanding what she was saying, then slowly, comprehension dawned. But his scowl only deepened as he considered her words, and she braced herself for whatever was coming. Perhaps he'd grant her the death she so deserved.

"Why do you not wish to return?" he asked carefully.

"He ordered me to kill my own brother, Severus," she responded, amazed that he would even ask such a thing.

"And you did as you were commanded... but only after he had your father put to death," he returned smoothly, his face completely unreadable. "I've often wondered why."

She flinched at the flat statement of fact, spoken so casually.

"Why do you look so wounded?" he continued easily. "His wasn't the first life you'd taken. You'd always followed orders. This is no time for a sudden deluge of conscience."

She took a moment to steady her breath before responding. "It was a mistake, Severus. I'm not a Death Eater."

A single brow arched as he encircled her bony wrist with a long-fingered hand. He extended her arm slowly, baring her mark, a pointed question glittering in his eyes.

"I know," she whispered sadly.

"Then you know also that you are sworn to his service until you die," he snapped, the once-soft voice edged and lethal. "By what right would you refuse his commands?"

"I didn't know," she sobbed, burying her face in her hands. "I didn't know, Sev."

"Don't lie to me," he snapped. "You knew exactly what you were getting yourself into!" He glared for a moment, seeming to enjoy the sight of her discomfort. "And if I tell you that you will return to his service or you will die?" he seethed. "Which will you choose?"

She tried to control the sobs racking her body, tried to regain some semblance of discipline before answering, but the tears refused to abate even for a moment. It was through those tears that she answered quietly, forcing her eyes to meet his. "I chose death years ago, Severus. All you can do is finish what I started."

Severus narrowed his eyes dangerously, and she began to feel sick.. not from fear, she'd faced down her fears so many times that they no longer had any monumental effect. What sickened her was that Severus, the only man she'd ever loved, was so loyal to Voldemort that he'd kill his oldest friend on the Dark Lord's order. That was enough to twist her stomach into knots.

She tensed when he lifted his wand, then gawked in fascination as he slid it home within his sleeve. A quick, familiar smirk preceded his next words. "Your stubbornness is going to be the death of you, Emily... but not by my wand."

The now-empty hand that slid from his sleeve reached to caress her face, and she leaned into the touch out of sheer relief. There was no way to know what the hell he was playing at, but she'd take the mystery over the certainty of death at his hands any day.

"Why did you do it?" he asked softly.

She sighed heavily and looked down at the black mark on her ashen flesh. "So many reasons, Severus. My brother, my father... you."

"Don't you _dare_ blame me for your stupidity," he bit out, practically leaping from the bed and running a slender hand through his hair. "No one asked you to take the Mark. You came to us. You damned yourself and your family."

He was pacing now, hands clenching and releasing in pent-up fury. "Do you have any idea what it did to me, watching you fall on your face before that creature, watching him burn his mark into your flesh?" He swooped down and slammed his hands on either side of her head, commanding her gaze, his face mere inches from hers, daring her to look away. "Watching him... _watching_ you? You stupid, reckless, thoughtless _child_," he spat.

She was too taken aback now to cry, too shocked at his sudden venom to even back away when his forehead came to rest on hers, an old and familiar gesture. "I never knew that kind of pain existed," he ended quietly.

"I didn't know," she whispered again.

"You didn't _care_, Emily," he asserted soberly. "And, that is the fact that still keeps me awake at night."

He took a very, very deep breath as he sat back. "There's so much you need to understand." With a sharp snap of his fingers, a tiny, prim house elf appeared at his side, bowing low, his long nose almost touching the floor. "We will have our breakfast now, Liri." With a polite acquiescence, the house-elf disappeared and breakfast appeared in his place.

Severus separated the floating serving trays, sliding the one loaded with fresh fruit, scones, and tea in front of Emily and taking the one with sausage and eggs for himself. He didn't begin to eat, though, until his charge hesitantly picked up a grape and placed it in her mouth. Satisfied, he began slicing things into a reasonable size on his own plate.

"Do you remember your first kill?" he asked softly.

She closed her eyes and swallowed thickly, managing only a nod.

"I remember, as if it were yesterday, the look in your eyes as you spoke the words that stole the life from that man's body," he continued. "Truth be told, I didn't care so much about the wizard. I'd never been overly fond of him, but the joy you felt at taking the life of an innocent was..." he stopped and closed his eyes against the memory. "I was finished with it after that," he continued grimly. "Finished with the Dark Lord and finished with you. I went to Dumbledore that very night, put aside my pride, and threw myself on his mercy, begging him to help me escape."

She smiled softly as she bit into a strawberry. No matter how gloomy the conversation, the sensation of sinking her teeth into that sweet, ripe fruit after so many years was one of absolute bliss. It also gave her a moment to digest what Severus had said to her. After some consideration, she asked, "So, why didn't he?"

"The Order needed a spy more than I needed asylum, and I saw an opportunity to atone for some of the blood that I had shed." His eyes never left his plate as he spoke the next words. "I hoped that doing some modicum of good would drown out the screams in my head or wipe the vision of your face, lit by that violent green glow, from my mind."

She hesitated, picked up her glass, then sat it back down. "Did it?" she asked.

He rubbed a spot between his eyes for a moment as if fighting a headache. "Not for an instant," was his quiet reply.

* * *

Headmaster,

I have finished administering the restoratives to Miss Grey and have informed her of the condition of the castle. She has readily agreed to assist us. It is my intention to spend tomorrow gathering supplies, then escort her to Hogwarts on Friday morning. As per your instructions, we will not be leaving the castle until it is restored.

If you need to contact me, please send Fawkes. An owl would likely blunder into the runic fields and be destroyed.

Sincerely,

S. Snape

* * *

Emily stared at the pale, gaunt figure in the mirror and shook her head. This really was a hell of a turnabout. Severus, always the silent, brooding youth in her shadow, had grown tall and strong and beautiful; and she, immensely wealthy, beautiful, powerful, one of the rising stars of the Slytherin house, had lost everything. There was no money, no estate, not even the marriage to another noble that she had avoided like the plague. Truly, she was nothing, now.

Sev, however, had grown fearfully powerful, so much so that she could feel the formidable swell of magic within him when he touched her. It was intriguing and terrifying and unspeakably attractive. Unfortunately, that desire was not mutual. That was made perfectly clear by the way he looked at her, the way he pulled away from her touch.

_And, no wonder_, she thought, scowling at her reflection. _I'm not even a whisper of the woman I was. How did I let this happen_?

It was a silly question, really. She had allowed it to happen because she had been trying like hell to end this misery forever. She wanted death, had desired to slip into nothingness for as long as she could remember. Life before Voldemort, before Azkaban and the dementors, before blood and darkness took over seemed like a blissful dream of someone else's existence.

Severus appeared at the door then with a question on his face.

There was no need to ask him to verbalize it. He hated to talk when he was tense.

She gave the handle of the bag a quick tug and grimaced with the effort of supporting its meager weight. A last look around the room, a last, secret glance in the mirror, and she moved to meet him outside the anti-apparation wards.

He looked the same question at her again, and she smiled warmly.

"I'm fine, Sev." she assured him. "Let's go."

* * *

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Elessar Evenstar: I'm glad you liked the tea. It was Plantation Mint with honey and a teaspoon of soymilk. It's so good to see that you've returned. I can't tell you how much reviews keep my spirits up. Emily is close to being her old self, though she still needs some filling out and cheering up. Maybe our beloved Sev can help. :-) Thanks for the positive feedback on the flashbacks. It's a relief to hear that they're as helpful in developing the characters as I'd hoped. Lucius will be making a few cameos, (much like the one in the first flashback) but the kinky sex will have to wait until I continue his story with Alex... or until I write this one-shot ficlet I have haunting my head. I may take a tiny sabbatical from this work to pen that one next week. It should only take a day or so, but it's a fun idea. Don't be a stranger!

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Quietude: I've never viewed Dumbledore as Mr. Compassionate. He seems to have his favorites, whom he coddles, the public, whom he generally favors, and the Slytherins, to whom he is really unfair. Unless, of course, you consider Severus who, it has been speculated, came to him for asylum, and he turned him into a spy, essentially forcing him to continue a life of bad deeds at great personal risk. That was much worse than just unfair. Anywho, I shouldn't even get started rambling on the subject of Dumbledore. I'm not a big fan. I mean, if one only considers his lack of judgment... okay, okay. I'll stop. No sparkly-eyed, sweet Dumbledore in my fics. I can't help but write him as I read him, as a general in a war, manipulating his troops as he must for a certain victory. Sorry. Still friends? Here. Have some tea and a muffin. You'll feel better. There will be more of Dumbledore in this fic than the last, and I hesitate to say much more lest I spoil the plot, but I don't think you'll stay pissed with him. He is being an ass , but there's a reason for that. Thanks for the compliment about Severus. It's soooo difficult to keep him in character without loosing his sense of compassion for his friend.

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Lady D3ath: Hi! Good to have you. Pull up a chair. Have some tea and a coffin cake (my Halloween special, just right for a Lady o' Death). I update pretty often because of the whole life thing: essentially, I don't have one. I guess that works out well for my beloved readers. Thanks for adding my story to your favorites. It's not only flattering, but it's a foreshadowing of future company in my little campfire circle... I hope. There's more than enough room, and you're welcome.

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Intel Ewok: Hi! It's so good to see you again! I was hoping you'd come aboard. Thanks for digging my Severus. Writing from his point of view is proving to be a challenge, but it's loads of fun. You're one of the few to mention Emily. It's such a relief that you find her interesting. It's difficult to make her that way when she's practically comatose, but she'll perk up now that she's coherent again. Glad that you enjoyed the Albus-Severus interaction. More of that on the way. Thanks for joining in, Intel. It would be lonely without you. Hope to see you next chapter!

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aurora: Hi! Good to have you. Have a seat. Have a cuppa. Have a snack. Hear a story. Thanks for chiming in about the other two stories. It's good to know that you enjoyed them. Hearing that makes the writing worth every bit of effort. I hope that this story lives up to your hopes for it. As for an edition to the Alex stories, that's going to have to be a resounding affirmative. Just about everyone has requested that the tales continue, so I've begun an outline for the next adventure. As soon as this one ends, the other will begin. And if you're not there I'll be very sad, so hang on with me. Okay?


	5. Chapter Five: The Masterpiece

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Chapter Five: The Masterpiece

**Author's note**:

1. aiet: east

2. deas: south

3. iar: west

4. tuath: north

5. nyu: spirit

Source: Celtic Magic - D.J. Conway (A great book. I highly recommend it.)

* * *

The spires of Hogwarts castle were lost in the early morning mist, and a soft dew still clung to the grass. Severus tapped idle fingers on crossed arms as he eyed his charge. Presently, she was sighing in absolute bliss as she curled her feet in the soft green shoots, her bare toes glistening with dew and slightly muddy around the nails. He hated to interrupt her little mewls of pleasure as she leaned back and smiled up at the sun, but the faster they made it to Hogwarts, the faster this mess would be sorted out.

There was, he had to admit, a sense of great satisfaction at seeing her healthy in body and mind so soon after he'd carried her wasted, insensible form out of Azkaban. She was still a bit weak, still needed some nourishing meals and exercise, but for the most part, Emily was back. Changed, yes, but not as much as he'd feared.

One thing had not changed in the slightest: Freedom suited her. If her father had seen that as clearly as he, then maybe... no. It was best to not dwell on what might have been. Too often, those imaginings resulted in clouded judgment and muddled thinking. Emily was what she was. What had happened had happened, and facing that was the only way to get past it.

"Are you quite finished, Miss Grey?"

She snorted a laugh. "Just give me a minute, Sev. This is paradise."

She ran both hands through her hair and gave her scalp a rather thorough scratching, fluffing the auburn locks into a tangled mess. _Mab's heart_, she looked like some feral creature just escaped from some exotic traveling show, not remotely beautiful, but fascinating nonetheless. Frowning, he stared at the bony arms that escaped the bounds of her too-loose robes. _Give it time_, he counseled himself. _You've come further than you'd dared hope and you know it_.

"I bought a perfectly serviceable pair of boots for you, madam, and that is hardly the proper way to employ them," he quipped, scowling down at the brown leather boots hanging by their laces from her shoulder.

"And, I thanked you for them," she shot back. "But they're not going on my feet until absolutely necessary."

He waved the comment away. "As you will, but we really must be on our way."

She rolled her eyes . "Are you so anxious to send me to my death?" she grumbled, struggling to keep pace with his long strides.

"We are not going to debate this again," he answered firmly. "I am more than capable of defending us both, should the need arise."

She shot him a sidelong glance. "Yeah. I noticed that."

Severus stopped walking and pivoted sharply on his heel, a deep frown etched into his handsome face. "What, precisely, are you saying?"

"Nothing, nothing," she protested, laughingly, hands lifted slightly in mock surrender. "You've just become so powerful." She paused, tried to look away, feeling suddenly very uncomfortable. "I'm... proud of you, Severus." He almost responded, parted his lips a bit, then realized that he had no idea what to say to that. "But, you can understand," she continued, "why I'd feel more comfortable with a wand of my own."

He arched a single eyebrow and gave her what she had always referred to as _the look,_ then turned and continued on his way. "Well, I suppose you're simply going to have to trust me."

His ears barely caught her muttered reply of, "Not asking much, are you?" as she turned to follow him into the castle.

* * *

Severus glared venomously down at the stone floor of the entrance hall. It was huge, this circle of runic wizardry, almost covering the entire room. Only the dais where the house hourglasses rested and a few feet beyond were unaffected. Thankfully, the door leading to the dungeon stairway was clear as well, though just barely. One couldn't take more than a few steps into the room without activating the magic, and judging from the power resonating from the floor, that would be a very, very bad idea. The deadly graffiti was enormous, larger than any runic circle he'd ever seen, not that he had much experience in these matters. Albus had taken one look at it and cursed, had actually waxed profane at the sight of the massive glyph.

"Son of a bitch and sweet mother of Merlin!" came an awed whisper from his side. "Severus, it's beautiful!" Emily exclaimed, rushing forward and kneeling reverently at the outer edge.

Severus pursed his lips. "Only you would look at this catastrophe and see beauty."

She shot him an incredulous look over her shoulder. "Sev, this is unbelievable work, the work of a master. Voldemort has a genius in the ranks." Severus tilted his head forward meaningfully. "Other than you, I mean," she added.

Her gaze swept the room, taking in the entire circle. "This is the most amazing work I've ever seen! How long did you say it took?"

"One night," he answered promptly, "But we believe they employed a time-slowing spell. Lucius Malfoy has a gift for that one."

"I thought you said Lucius was in prison."

"He was... for three days." Emily scowled over her shoulder as he continued. "He bought his freedom in much the same way he bought his wife."

_Though you were the one he wanted_, Severus thought bitterly. Lucius had an unholy obsession with breaking strong people, and he had hungered to bend Emily to his will from the first moment he'd met her. Her rebellion against her father's will had spared her that, at least. Though who would've broken whom was anyone's guess. Emily was the only person he'd ever known to consistently come out on top where Malfoy was concerned.

That all changed when she'd joined the Death Eaters, though. Lucius outranked them both on countless levels. He was the most favored of the Dark Lord, and as such, anyone who displeased him felt his wrath. Punishing the insubordinate had been his main duty, and Emily, never one to obey orders unfailingly, often found herself on the wrong end of his wand.

How many times had Severus lay awake at night listening to her screams in his head as he reviewed the images of her writhing at Malfoy's feet? He sighed inwardly. The real question was, what was he going to do to keep it from happening again? The Death Eaters would be very interested to know that she was out of Azkaban and almost completely restored. She had escaped by the skin of her teeth the last time she refused to obey the Dark Lord, and Lucius had been furious. Hence, the joy he took at torturing her father to death. Severus and Lucius and a few others had been ordered to finish off the rest of the family, Emily and Eric, that very night, but the Order was tipped off by their spy and arrived first.

That was when the world had shifted rather out of focus for Severus. Just when he'd thought that Emily was coming around, was showing some degree of humanity again, the Order had found her crouched on the floor of the main entrance to her home beside a blood-splattered runic circle, the pieces of her brother scattered throughout the entrance and all over her. She had been arrested, tried, convicted, and sentenced to life in Azkaban within a matter of days.

He pinched the bridge of his nose, forcing himself back to the present. This was really no time to relive the travesties of the past with such a large one looming in front of them. Better that they both concentrate on removing this obstacle. He'd worry about keeping Emily from the Death Eaters later.

Emily was up and pacing the edge of the monstrosity at present, shaking her head in wonder. "It's a masterpiece," she breathed.

"It's a masterpiece which could bring this castle down on our heads," Severus snapped.

"Ooohh... Somebody's grumpy, today," she chuckled. A singular _look_ got her moving again, studying the symbols in earnest. Snape could only hope that her mind was as mended as it seemed. Who knew whether they would be able to make it to the library, and Albus didn't want them leaving in case Voldemort's army decided to return. Hopefully, she could do this without reference materials. Years ago, he wouldn't have doubted her. Despite her acting like a complete buffoon and her lack of common sense, her basic intelligence rivaled his own and when she applied it, there was not much she couldn't accomplish.

Her gaze wandered to the ceiling now, and he could practically hear the wheels in her head turning. "Sev," she called absently, obviously preoccupied. "Do a little wand-waving and find out how high the sphere of influence is."

"The Headmaster has done so already," he replied, greatly relieved that she was finally working. "It reaches a few feet above the floor, no more."

She bit her lip and stared at the ceiling. "Do you think you could levitate me up to that chandelier? I'm too short to get a good view of the other side."

"I think I can manage that. Just don't move." He drew his wand and leveled it.

"No!" she shouted holding out a warning hand. "Slow down. I need a scroll and a quill."

He supplied them immediately from his own bag.

"What about ink?"

"It's perpetual," he responded casually.

She looked down at the instrument with new respect. "A perpetually-filled quill," she mused. "Nice. I don't suppose it'll write while I dictate?"

"It's never done so for me," he returned, "But perhaps if you ask it nicely. You _were_ always the charming one."

She narrowed her eyes. "Oh, that's funny, Sev."

"Unintentionally, I assure you," he replied impatiently. "Are you prepared to work, now?"

Soon, she was settled on a thick, iron appendage of the enormous fixture and scribbling fiercely. Severus gave a small, quick smile to see her feet swinging merrily as she worked. How many times had she unintentionally kicked him under the desk while they studied because she couldn't keep still for long periods?

"I'm going to see to our things," he called up, heading for the dungeons.

"No!"

He stopped and turned with an irritated sigh.

"Don't leave me in here with this thing without a wand," she shouted. "Have you lost your mind? What if I drop something?"

"I suggest you don't," he called over his shoulder, already moving again.

"Sev, _please_ don't leave me."

He froze. It was the 'please' that did it, the way it trembled past her lips like a prayer.

"Liri," he called resolutely. The house elf appeared in an instant, bowing low. "Take these things to my chambers in the dungeon." The elf gave a quick snap of his fingers and the luggage vanished. Severus gave a subtle shake of his head. Wizards could take lessons in humility by watching house-elves dispatch their masters' requests without any visible effort. Truly, they were the most powerful of all the magical creatures. It was a relief that Liri had come along. The other house-elves had been forced to leave for their own safety by Dumbledore, and the help was much needed.

"Have you found the kitchen to be in working order, Liri?"

"Yes, master. Liri is finding it very suitable to his requirements."

Severus smirked. Liri had been almost completely silent, still mourning the passing of his mistress, when Snape had purchased the smallish manor outside of Hogsmeade. Snape had made the mistake of scolding him for his lack of verbal response to his commands, and he'd responded by avidly adopting the potion master's vocabulary. Consequently, he'd become the most well-spoken house elf he'd ever known.

"Thank you, Liri. That will be all."

The little elf vanished before he rose from his deep bow.

"Perhaps, I could join you," Severus called from the floor. "I am quite capable of taking dictation while you study the circle."

"Come on up, then," she called back, and he readily complied.

Any action was preferable to standing around while she took notes. At least this way he'd know what she thought of what she was seeing.

Once settled, he looked down at the floor and inhaled sharply at the view. He had to admit what Emily had already stated. The work was beautiful, a complex web of interwoven symbols broken into distinct sections within an encircled pentacle. Some of the larger runes in the center were bound up in Knot Work reminiscent of the ancient Celts. It was, indeed, breathtaking.

Emily was already talking and he had to backtrack his subconscious to remember what he had heard while he'd admired the work.

"I don't know who did it," he answered at last. "None of the Death Eaters, even Voldemort's elite could manage this kind of work. You and Dumbledore are the only ones I know who could manage it. Perhaps Professor Corrigan, the Ancient Runes instructor, but she's been missing since the night of the incident. We assume she's dead."

She shook her head. "Just Albus and your professor, then. I'm pretty sure I can _reverse_ this, but there's no way in Hades I could've managed to cast it. It's over my head." She indicated the point closest to the stairs at the back of the room. "See the runes inside the edge of each of the points of the pentacle?" He nodded. "Those are seals. You'll notice that the runes are fairly similar around each point: aiet, deas, iar, tuath, and nyu? Each point is a key, meaning we'll have to disable the runic circles relative to each point, somewhere in this castle, before we can even consider this big one. Albus was right. Voldemort wanted this to take time. That's probably why he killed your Runes instructor, to keep Albus busy and disable the Order. But look in the center. You see, just before each point begins, the arched knot? That's called the Portcullis; that's the tricky part."

She swore softly. "I could really use a wand."

"It's out of the question," he answered shortly, not even looking in her direction. "Please continue."

There was a moment of silence, then, "You don't trust me, do you, Sev?"

He ground his teeth. Why had she never developed any of her father's tact? She was more direct - blunt, actually - than any other noble would dream of being. Or, perhaps he simply didn't care for the question itself.

"I haven't much reason to," he answered at last.

"You have every reason," she argued. "If someone can't be trusted here, it's you."

"I've played nursemaid to you for a week..."

"For the sake of your own agenda," she interrupted testily.

He gave himself a moment to bite back the sadistic comment on the tip of his tongue. "Think what you will, Miss Grey. It's hardly my concern. Now, what, precisely, is the 'tricky' part?"

* * *

****

Lady Jenilyn: Oh, I'm so relieved that you're not gone! By the way, I'm sorry about that abortive attempt at an e-mail. I was fairly inebriated; so much so, in fact, that (according to the Loaf) I squealed and hugged the computer screen when I saw that you hadn't gone. As for the "hot-babe" babe potion, that's going to have to be a negative. I'm sure it would only complicate matters anyway. She's coming along, though. She won't be a skeletette forever. These things take time. I was most relieved to hear that you like my version of Dumbledore. He's not going to be very popular, I can tell, and I know that he's being ridiculously unreasonable, but there's a good reason for that on the way. The rune thing, I hope, will become more clear as the story progresses, (hopefully, this chapter clarified a little bit) but you seem to have the basic idea. I love the idea of Ronnikins getting his leg blown off, but I don't see involving him in this story at all. Sorry. I have to give big, fat shrug as to what's up with 200 people reading your story and no one reviewing. That's just tacky to not express one's approval of good writing. Sorry about that, Jenilyn. People can be major jerks. One of the million reasons I love knowing that you're out there. Thanks. (Passes Jen a cup of mint tea)

****

Intel Ewok: Hi! You're so right. That is Severus for you. Especially, playing head games to determine someone's true loyalties. I'm so happy that you approve. This has been much more challenging than the Alex stories because Severus is so hard to peg as a relatively good guy. It's a relief to know that he's reading well. There's also a huge sigh when I read that Emily is an interesting OC. Truth be told, I wasn't too fond of her when I first started writing this story. I was just interested in exploring the premise, but she's definitely growing on me. You know, the night after I read your review, I had a very lucid dream that Harry, Ron, and Hermione were outside the door listening to the conversation between Sev and Emily. I woke up laughing at the incredulous looks they passed back and forth. It was the grooviest dream I've had in a while, so thanks. (Passes a muffin to Intel)

****

Captain Oblivious: Hi! Thanks for dropping by. Have a drink, a seat, and a muffin. It's good to see a new face. Wow! Spectacular! Thanks so much! Have _another_ muffin. I'm blushing violently over here. I should have specified (totally my bad) that this story takes place after OOTP, so Sirius has bitten the big one... which is a real shame. It would be fun to put those two in the same room and watch the sparks fly. I can assure you a run-in with Remus... and a picture of his nastier side. That one word you used to describe her relationship with Severus (i.e. unique) has taken a load off of my mind. If there's one thing I strive to do, it's make sure that my stories aren't ripped off from everyone else's. Otherwise, what's the point? You're right about Azkaban. I can't imagine anyone coming out of there without some serious psychological trauma. Emily is lucky to have a potions master in charge of her recovery, or it would take a long, long time to see results. Thanks for the review, Captain O. I appreciate it.


	6. Chapter Six: A Matter of Trust

****

Chapter Six: A Matter of Trust

Snape rubbed his eyes hard enough to cause lights to flash behind the lids, then took a deep drink from his glass. Red wine, in large doses, was the prescribed potion tonight. Not that he didn't have a sobering potion directly in front of him on the table. It would be careless to have no immediate remedy for inebriation, but he hoped there would be no need to take it.

After Emily had informed him that the 'tricky part' which had her so concerned, was that the runic circles would have to be activated before they could be destroyed, he had lowered them both from the chandelier and headed for the dungeon without another word. Emily was right. She needed a wand. It was unfair to ask her to face this kind of magic with no more personal protection than her own runic spells. Without a wand to handle any number of adverse situations, she could quite easily be killed. Of course, he would be there to defend her, but the kind of magic they were dealing with was so unpredictable that even he couldn't be certain of success.

He should see to getting a wand for her - surreptitiously, of course, or the Headmaster would have his head. But, _could_ he trust her with it? Even if her intentions were good, and he was almost certain that they were, she was unpredictable to the point of being a danger to herself and everyone around her, always had been. Truth be told, he enjoyed having this kind of control over her. It was a welcome change to the way they grew up: Emily constantly thinking up elaborate schemes, getting everyone involved, then changing the plan in mid-endeavor, thus creating chaos. In the best of times, they narrowly avoided disaster. In the worst, well, one had to consider what she'd done to her brother as the worst-case scenario. Why in Hades she'd changed her mind about _that_, one could only speculate. She certainly wasn't discussing the matter.

"You wouldn't start a fire, would you?" Emily asked, toweling her hair as she sauntered in from the bath. "I'd forgotten how cold it is down here."

His eyes left his glass just long enough to notice that the nightgown he'd purchased for her, a long-sleeved black robe that covered her from collar to ankles, was sticking to her body where the skin was still wet. It was pleasing in more ways than one to see that she was beginning to fill out in all the right places. Severus shook the stray thought from his head. _That_ was the wine thinking for him. It almost always made him unreasonably salacious. Most of the time when he'd imbibed too much, he allowed himself to indulge with someone hired to relieve those types of desires or one of a myriad of licentious women of his acquaintance who were almost always willing to serve beneath a Death Eater, in a manner of speaking. It was one of the few perks of bearing the Dark Mark. But not tonight, and most certainly not with a woman who was, for all intents and purposes, his prisoner.

Hating to lose the rare feeling of comfort into which he'd been slipping, he tossed back the sobering potion and started a fire roaring in the hearth.

Emily plopped down next to him on the sofa, threw an arm casually over the back, and stifled a yawn. He scowled in answer. She was tiring far too quickly, and if she fell asleep now, it would be the third nap today. He reached out a hand toward her and she flinched.

"Stop that, you silly girl," he snapped mildly. "I'm not going to hurt you."

"I know. I'm sorry," she answered, keeping still this time as his fingers found her jugular and rested there. "Why do you keep doing that?"

"Just reassuring myself that you're alive," he replied, flashing a tight-lipped smile.

"You know, anybody else would be fooled," Emily said smoothly, pulling his hand from her throat. "However, I know you well enough, Severus Snape, to know that when you start making wisecracks, something is really bothering you." She gave him an uncharacteristically somber look. "So, what's wrong with me?"

He narrowed his eyes. _What a time for her insight to show up_. She tapped a finger impatiently, staring into his eyes with an intensity she rarely possessed and he met the look with one of his own, the one he knew made her squirm.

She didn't budge.

_Fine_.

"Your metabolism isn't functioning properly."

"That's why I'm so tired." It wasn't a question, but he nodded anyway. "How do we fix it?"

"I'm afraid I've done all I can do with potions. The rest is up to you. You need to eat more often, and you need exercise."

She laughed heartily at that. "Well, I imagine I'll get plenty of that running away from whatever danger we find, a very good reason for you to continue insisting that I can't have a wand."

"It's not a laughing matter, Emily," he admonished. "I wish that I _could_ trust you enough to allow you a weapon."

Her face grew somber once again with just a hint of resentment in her green eyes. "It's alright. I'll just shove you into the path of anything that comes after me."

He sighed and sat forward. "Have you no understanding of my position at all? Dumbledore would send you directly back to Azkaban and _never_ trust me again were he to find that I'd armed you."

"I suppose you think I can't keep a secret?" she retorted. "I am a Slytherin, you know."

"The finest I've ever known," he replied sincerely. "And you seem far too capable of keeping secrets for my own comfort," he added with a distinctly pointed look.

He saw it in her eyes, that spark of anger he'd expected. The moment he spoke the words, he knew that she would be well-aware of the secret to which he referred. He had carefully calculated the manner in which he would bring it up, but this seemed too convenient a moment to shun.

"Some things are just none of anyone else's affair," she answered softly, a definite note of warning in her voice.

"They'll send you directly back to prison after this assignment is finished, Emily, if you don't tell them what happened... _why_ you killed him."

In her eyes, there arose a flash of fury so violent that he, for an instant, reached for his wand, but there was no need. She simply stood abruptly and left the room without another word, the patented Slytherin way to end an unsolicited exchange.

Severus sat back, poured another glass of wine, and spent the rest of the evening brooding.

* * *

Headmaster,

I am pleased to report that Miss Grey was able, on her initial inspection of the entrance hall, to interpret the runic circle. It is locked, as you suggested, and the keys are scattered about the school... again, just as you suggested. Unfortunately, she has informed me that the keys must be triggered before they can be eliminated. This has made the situation much more complicated. It may take longer and become more dangerous than we anticipated.

I plan to interview the ghosts today as I'm certain they've seen the other runic circles and can assist us in mapping them out.

I shall inform you of our progress as events warrant.

-S. Snape-

* * *

Snape was prudent enough to knock before entering the makeshift bedroom which had been his second lab before Liri had his way with it. It was amazing what that tiny elf could accomplish for a woman. He had been a fine house-elf in the year Severus had owned him, but the addition of Emily had transformed him into something extraordinary. The extra care he took with tasks concerning her was almost enough to make the potions master envious of the attention. Perhaps she reminded him of his former mistress. Severus didn't know, and wasn't curious enough to ask.

When he had waited quite long enough for her to answer the door, he simply removed the wards and entered the room. If she didn't know he was out here, she'd gone quite deaf.

His eyes swept the room as he entered, uncomfortably aware of its lack of occupant. The bed was still a mess, and the window near the ceiling wide open. Beneath that, there was a work table with two of his trunks settled atop it, forming an unstable-looking ladder. As he made his way to the desk, cursing his stupidity, he caught sight of a parchment on the pillow. Heart pounding wildly, hoping she wouldn't betray him to such an extent, he sat down to read.

* * *

Dearest Severus,

I can't take it anymore, the lack of trust or your incessant questions. The truth is, my loyalties have never changed. I am still a child of darkness, a Death Eater, a loyal servant of the Dark Lord. I have gone now to inform Lord Malfoy of your treachery. He is the only one I trust to contact the Dark Lord immediately and...

Oh, I can't do it, even as much as you deserve the heart attack.

Don't panic, love. I've only nipped out for a walk, (getting that much-needed exercise) and as you've warded the door, I simply had to resort to muggle tricks to escape. I'll be out by the lake should you choose to join me.

Yours Always,

Emily

* * *

Severus was indeed clutching his chest, feeling as though he just might have that heart attack she felt he deserved. _Sweet Merlin_, that woman hadn't changed a bit! He left the room swiftly, headed for the lake, just to reassure himself that she had only been teasing. But, by all the gods, what a horrid thing to joke about!

* * *

Emily had been awake since well before first light, and had come to the lake to watch the splendor of the sun rising over the mountains, setting the water aflame with a brilliant red dawn. It was breathtaking, and she cursed her own shortsightedness for having never come out to see this when she was a schoolgirl.

She'd been incredibly preoccupied with other things, then. Her studies, Quidditch, finding ways to piss off the Headmaster, dealing with a father who was forcing her into a noble marriage she didn't want... and Severus. Always Severus, whether in the back of her mind or the forefront of her thoughts, he dominated every aspect of her life... even her decision to join Voldemort. Whether he would hear it or not, that had been driven almost solely by her desire to prove herself to him. Though what she'd proven in the long run had damned any chance she might have had, and made her an ugly, skinny, (though that was improving rapidly with the advent of Snape's potions) knutless pariah.

She was worse than a murderer. She was a blood traitor, a killer of her own kin. What did it matter, really, if she was sent back to prison? It wasn't as if she could ever have a life on the outside. Of course, what one had on the inside was hardly life, either. She pulled back the sleeve of her robe and stared disconsolately at the scars there. For all intents and purposes, her life was over.

In fact, if this one last adventure didn't kill her, she fully intended to end it properly this time. Severus always kept poison on hand. It would be all too easy to acquire, and where Snape's potions were concerned, there was no possibility of error. If the contents of a bottle were intended to be deadly, then they were. Period. Severus did not make mistakes.

She ran a hand through disheveled hair, and pushed back the desire to cry with the memory of the letter she'd left for him. That, at least, had been fun.. imagining what kind of fit he would...

"Lady Emily Brigid Tara Grey!" came an angry voice from directly behind her.

_Speaking of whom_...

"Good morning to you, too, Severus," she greeted calmly, pointedly refusing to refer to him by his full title which could take several breaths as worn out as she was from the walk.

"You do realize the danger you are in, do you not?"

"Am I?" she returned dully. This really wasn't the way she preferred to end this enchanting morning.

"The Dark Lord's chosen are not incapable of breaching our wards, and we still have no idea how they managed it. What if I had been one of them?"

"Then you would've tripped the ward you're standing on," she replied casually.

Severus scowled down at his feet to see that there was, indeed, a very faint, barely noticeable imprint of a complex runic circle surrounding the stone on which she sat. "I suppose you think that excuses you for wandering about on your own," he intoned sternly.

She smirked. He was deliberately not mentioning the letter which meant that it had really shaken him. "I hardly need an excuse to do what you told me to do, Severus Snape, so don't take that tone with me," she snapped, standing up to glare up at him as he squinted in the sunlight. "Is there something you want?" she added, refusing to flinch at the glare he was directing at her.

"Your breakfast is getting cold," he answered simply, turning on his heel and returning the way he came.

* * *

"They are scattered, Professor," the Bloody Baron answered in his typically impassive tone.

"I need their exact locations," Severus intoned as dryly as his house's resident ghost.

The silvery specter nodded once, slowly, then began to speak. There was one in the herb garden on the east side of the castle. _Mab's dark heart, if Emily had stumbled into that one in the half-light before dawn_... he shook his head. Stubborn, thoughtless woman.

Another lay in the caverns under the school itself beside the underground lake. The third was atop a torch-lined tower on the south side. The other two remained hidden, but that was enough for a start.

Upon returning to his office, he spotted Emily at his desk, completely absorbed in her notes, and stood patiently, waiting until she came to an acceptable place to pause. When she finally looked up, it was with tired eyes, but a more exuberant expression than he'd seen since their school days. He almost smiled at the difference it made in her face.

"The Baron knows of three," he stated without preamble.

"Where are they?"

As she listened to the given locations, she made notes on a parchment which Severus couldn't begin to read. Not only were the English words mixed with Ogham and runic notation, but they were so scribbled as to be completely illegible. After a few seconds of writing, she lifted her head once more. "I'm going to hazard a guess that the one beneath the castle is tuath, the one in the garden is aiet..." she chewed her lip for a moment, perusing her notes. "I'll have to have a look at the other."

"Have you determined the order?"

She filled her cheeks with air, and released it in a soft puff. "No," she answered unhappily. "I'm not even certain that there _is_ a proper order. I need to have another look at the large one in the entrance hall."

Severus slid onto the sofa and poured a glass of wine. "And, you're not doing so because..."

Emily let her head fall forward onto the pile of notes. "Because I'm exhausted," she mumbled into the parchment.

He checked the clock on the wall. It was still fairly early, but she'd been awake all day, a record since her removal from Azkaban. "Perhaps you should turn in."

She yawned, stretched, and cracked her interlocked knuckles in one motion, and Severus chuckled lightly. "You should _definitely_ turn in."

"Right," she mumbled, rising wearily, stumbling around the desk, and past the potions master. A casual brush of her fingers through his hair and a murmur of, "'Night, Sevvie," bespoke her exhaustion. It was an all-too-familiar gesture and pet name, and brought the memories he'd tried so hard to keep at bay flooding back.

Summer nights, lying out on the back lawn of the Grey estate with his head resting innocently in her lap. Hours at a time had been spent in this manner with Emily languidly brushing her fingers through his silken, black hair as they carelessly mused about whatever happened to inspire them at the moment.

Life had been simple, then. Friends and enemies. Manicured futures. And, the perfect sense of peace he felt in those easy moments when all the world belonged to Emily and Severus, and nothing could ever come between them.

The door swung closed behind her and still he remained silent, at once overwhelmed at the power of the vision in his head. It was only the nearly-sentient walls of Hogwarts which saw the small, sad smile and heard the faint, tender whisper.

"'Night, Em."

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Quietude: Would you please be a sweetie and send your e-mail address to me again so that I can send that alternate ending to you? I'm a complete moron and erased your letter without saving it. (Smacks head)

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Ellessar Evenstar: My story doesn't exist? That's just great. As if my ego weren't squashed enough! Oh, well. I'm glad that our dear website finally changed its mind and let you continue reading. Don't worry. Missing a chapter isn't going to make me hate you, just don't be a stranger. Reviews keep me writing. Your 'drinks all 'round' quote sent me into a 'Pirates' frenzy and I was forced to watch my favorite scenes for an hour after I read your review. Great Merlin, I love that movie! As for the story. Yes. Emily is head over heels for Severus and has been since childhood. And, I must thank you for your comment about having a good reign on their passion. That was a really sweet compliment, and it was just what I needed to help me make a decision I'd been struggling to make about a change in the outline. How cool is that? And, yes, I much prefer Severus when he's being a scowling little prick. He's just so damn charming when he's like that. I truly hope that my tiny little ficlet lives up to your expectations. I'll let you know when/if I decide to post it.

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Queen of the Faeries: I hope that Emily doesn't disappoint. She's becoming much easier to write now that I'm warming up to her. I've always loved the look of runes and Celtic Knot Work, so I wanted to include them in the runic circles. Luckily, it makes a lot of sense to do so as runes, Ogham, and Knot Work were often used together to create spells, according to Druidic and Wiccan tradition. The Portcullis Knot that was used at the beginning of each spire of the pentacle, for instance, is a symbol for passing through a threshold for some magical purpose. Therefore, it was only a short hop to have it stand for needing to pass into and activate the rune in order to destroy it. So, yay for us! Now, if I could only render a drawing of the work. Because, frankly, I'd like to see it, too.

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Captain Oblivious: Of course I answered your review and gave you muffins! You took the time to tell me what you thought of my story, and I appreciate it. Hope the muffins were yummy! They're organic and cruelty-free, so eat up! Sorry about Sirius being dead. Even though I dislike him (or maybe because of that) he would have been fun to have in the story as something other than a brief mention in a flashback. You have a Sevvie on a leash??!! Mmmmnnnn. The possibilities.... Yes, Lucius is, of course, out of prison because it just wouldn't be Lucius otherwise. Yes, he'll be in and out of this story, enough to add to the plot, but not nearly enough to be a main character. Sorry. I miss him, too.

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Cecikun: I've always wondered (forgive an old woman her ignorance) what LOL means. Can you possibly enlighten me? I appreciate your review. Do, indeed, have a cup of tea and a muffin, but do stop waving the teaspoon about, dear. You're likely to put someone's eye out. ;) Emily is already madly in love with Severus. Whether those feelings will be returned remains to be seen. Hope you'll stick around, have more muffins and tea (DO stop waving that teaspoon, dear!) and give more breathless reviews until the end is resolved. I'm more than happy to explain any aspect of the story that causes confusion. No worries, there. As evidence, I present this: The runes are an ancient alphabetical script which, in Wicca, Druidic magic, classical Witchcraft, and a few other disciplicnes, are used for divination and magical inscription. As Rowling has yet to really describe an Ancient Runes class to us, I have taken the liberty of mixing my limited knowledge of classic runic spellwork and the Potterverse to create a method of runic inscription for powerful spellwork. I assert that it is powerful because, at Hogwarts, it is considered to be a rather advanced class. As for their specific use, particularly in this story, I must extend my apologies for not being able to give you details and assure you that you will see your first runic circle in action in chapter seven. I hope for your sake (as you seem rather in invested in the idea) that things work out between Severus and Emily... but I'm not gonna tell.


	7. Chapter Seven: An Ill Wind

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Chapter Seven: An Ill Wind

"I have a definite order now," she murmured through the parchment clutched in her teeth.

Severus glanced over and hid a smile. So many years had passed, but if he ever needed evidence that this was still his Emily, none more definite existed than the manner in which she worked; with papers and books littering the stones at her bare feet, parchments, both rolled and unrolled in her lap and a quill stuck unceremoniously in her tangled hair, it was a wonder she could accomplish anything. Had he ever been forced to work amid chaos such as this, he wouldn't be able to keep his thoughts straight, but it all made perfect sense to Emily, and she was accomplishing much while he played valet: summoning books, taking notes, ordering food, and... of course... guarding the dangerous prisoner.

"It's aiet, tuath, iar, deas, and nyu," she continued, "not very traditional, and not what I would've expected, but I've triple-checked the work."

"That's a fair start," he replied in a tone almost bordering on chipper. Emily shot him a curious glance from the corner of his eye, and tried to hide her own smile... as if he wouldn't notice. "You mentioned that the circle in the garden is likely aiet. We may begin there, then." He shot up from his chair with a grace and energy that belied his age. "Shall we?"

"Anxious to get to work?" she called to his retreating form while hastily pulling on her boots.

"Exceedingly." He was halfway through the door before the last syllable died on his lips.

She had to sprint to catch up and was gasping like a landed fish by the time her steps met his own at the edge of the garden. He smirked nonchalantly as she gave him a thorough scolding for walking so quickly. Hadn't he told her she needed exercise?

The runic circle was carved into the ground amid what had once been the herb garden just outside the greenhouses. It was much smaller than the work in the entrance from whence they'd just come, and looked much less complex. But, any idiot schooled in magic knew that a spell couldn't be judged by its convolution alone. The air and ground here were humming with magic, just as they were in the front hall, and the runes themselves were glowing with a soft, golden light.

"Oh, yes," Emily breathed, still trying to collect herself after dashing across the grounds. "This is definitely aiet, the eastern spire, the element of air." She paced the circle, absently listing the associations of the eastern spire. "Wind, sky, breath..."

"... Tornadoes, hurricanes, capriciousness," Severus continued.

She shot him a glare from the other side of the circle. "I don't recall your being so negative, Severus."

He met her glare with one of his own. "A mile in my moccasins, Miss Grey."

She smirked briefly, understanding the reference. "Touché."

True, she'd been holed up in Azkaban for killing her own brother, but he'd been through his own share of trials and tribulations. Neither of them had the luxury any longer of viewing things with the innocence of youth.

"What do you see?"

"I see several references to wind and sky here," she said, crouching at the outer edge. "There's an astounding amount of elemental energy bound into these runes. Whatever comes out of here will be deadly."

"Can you destroy the circle?" he asked quietly.

She nodded. "I can. I'll need a potion from you and a good dagger... And, of course, you'll have to face whatever happens when it's triggered."

"I can defend us. No need to worry. What kind of potion will you need?"

"I considered going about this subtly, but I think I can banish the power itself. I need a potion of pure destruction, something that will wipe this rune off the face of the earth. Can you do that, _Professor_?" she asked with a wry tilt of her mouth.

He nodded, suddenly studying her very carefully. She had used his title as a gentle ribbing, but it obviously needled her just a bit. Their roles had changed drastically in the last sixteen years, and the fact that it _appeared_ to be having so little effect on her gave him pause. Did she really think that he was foolish enough to believe this charade of contentment? She had far too much ambition to remain unaffected by what had happened to her fortune, her power, her future. If he knew her at all, and he flattered himself he did, she was contemplating making good her attempts at suicide.

But, not yet. She would see this endeavor through first, just to prove that she could, to die having delivered a stinging slap in the face of those who didn't trust her enough to _allow_ her a wand when she was in danger. She would show them all what Emily Grey was made of, then pass from this world before they had a chance to thank her. On the other side of Emily's inherent playful nature lay a vast hoard of black-hearted spite, a trait that he found to be positively endearing.

He glanced at her preoccupied face as they headed back toward the castle. Oh, yes. He knew his Emily all too well, and he would find a way to keep her from carrying out her morbid plans. There had to be something in this world she would find worthy of her continued existence, and before this monstrous chore ended, he would find it.

He would no more accept her death than he would her continued imprisonment. One way or another, Emily was going to be happy.

* * *

Both the potion and potions master were ready well before Emily was, and they were back in the garden before she had time to really acclimate to the idea of what she was about to attempt. Standing beside the glyph, she eyed the runes of power etched in and around the elemental runes of air and quailed just a bit. It had been ages since she'd acted as a warrior in any capacity, much less done something as dangerous as destroy a runic circle of this potency. And, she was tired, so tired that her stomach churned at the thought of channeling the energy this would require.

But, what really gnawed at her was that the last time she'd used their combined method of runic magic, she'd ended up covered in her brother's blood, his severed hand still clutched tightly in her own, and she swore she'd never inscribe another rune. Now, here she was, about to break that promise to save a school she loved for the sake of a man she loved even more.

Severus.

Never could she have imagined that it was possible for someone to change so much, yet remain exactly the same. As she looked at him now, contemplating the circle and his charge intermittently, a warmth that had nothing to do with the summer sun began to overtake her. When he glanced back in her direction, he was wearing a smirk under steely eyes. Kneeling at the edge of the circle, she returned the half-smile, wondering exactly what had transpired to so change his attitude toward aggressive combat. When they were only children he had made it a point to know and perfect every curse he could find, but loathed using them. Severus had always preferred more subtle forms of villainy... one of the many reasons he was such a natural at potions.

A sharp glance from the corner of his eye and a miniscule nod was the only warning she received before he stepped through the circle and was suddenly swallowed by a blinding golden light shooting skyward like a malevolent beacon. She cried out once, for a moment overcome by fear for him, but just as quickly, she collected herself and concentrated on the task at hand. Directing her attention to the northern quarter of the circle, she plunged the dagger into the earth at the very edge and began to trace the first rune.

Grimly, she worked, doggedly ignoring the long, low whistle that grew steadily louder as an invisible weight began to settle over her. Whatever power they had released was coming fast. The bottle in her hand shook slightly as she carefully traced the rune with the Draught of Destruction that Severus had brewed, and began chanting the charm which would join the power of the two, channeling them into a force of pure annihilation.

Seconds later, when the rune was activated and pulsed with a greenish-black light, she risked a glance skyward at the approaching unearthly roar and froze, mouth wide with terror. The giant, black funnel was tearing out of the sky, drawn to the circle like iron to a magnet, absorbing the golden glow as it approached, fueling itself with magic. She tried to scream, but the air was suddenly stolen away and a vicious force pressed her to the earth. Raising up on shaking limbs, she crawled to the western quarter to continue her work, hoping that Severus was as capable as he seemed.

The dagger had just begun its twisting path in the earth when she heard the man in question cry out from somewhere within the dying light. Her heart leapt at the sound of his voice, but the panic in his tone did nothing to alleviate her concern. A hasty glance revealed a black silhouette, wand pointed skyward, and the hair stood on the back of her neck as Snape's ward closed around them, effectively sealing them off from the rapidly-approaching tornado.

Severus continued to chant, constantly renewing the ward with every harsh word, and for a moment she knelt like a statue, watching with growing terror as the raging wind screamed out of the sky and collided violently with the ward. The ground shook with the force of the impact, and she watched in horror as Severus collapsed to his knees, the magic around her trembling with the sudden withdrawal of sustenance. A sharp cry was torn from her throat as she covered her head instinctively, certain that they were lost.

To her great surprise, though, the barrier held, and as the tornado expanded and engulfed the area around them, Emily spared one more second to look up, for who else could say that they'd seen the inside of a cyclone and lived to tell the tale? There was no stopping the bubble of wild laughter that suddenly overwhelmed her as she stared up into the swirling, black reminder of the Great Mother's power and wrath.

It was Severus who startled her out of her reverie - the shadow of movement caught out of the corner of her eye as he struggled back to his feet. For one moment more, she watched him as he pulled himself up, his wand again raised defiantly against the storm, and the shouted incantation lost in the deafening roar.

Gods, he was beautiful! The picture of grace and power. He was everything a wizard should strive to be: relentless, fearsome, devastatingly intelligent, and deadly.

With a wistful smile, she returned to her work, finishing the western rune and crawling to the south to repeat her efforts. The cyclone was moving, now, circling the ward as if seeking a way in and ripping up everything in its path as it did so. The magical shield continued to shiver as uprooted trees, enormous edging stones, and pieces of the surrounding greenhouses, broke themselves upon it. But she paid it no heed, confident in her old friend's ability to protect them from the chaotic, swirling mass of debris.

At last, the funnel moved behind them, punctuated by the sound of shattering glass and splintering wood, as she proceeded to the final quarter and began the exhausting work of finishing the destruction of the circle. The other runes had been difficult, but the last one would take the most energy, the final infusion of magic was always the most demanding and the overwhelming exhaustion in her limbs terrified her. For the first time, she wondered whether she'd be able to complete this task or whether her usual overconfidence had led them both to their doom. After all, Snape's ward wouldn't, _couldn't _hold indefinitely - not battling the ancient, elemental forces of the earth itself. No one could stand against that kind of raw power for long.

It was ironic that the first piece of shrapnel found a chink in their protection just as she'd finished the thought. There was no amusement to be found, though, in the sight of Severus being thrown to the ground as part of a stone planter tore into his shoulder at blinding speed. How he continued to chant was beyond her comprehension. But, judging by the persistence of the ward, he did so, and a violent expletive escaped her lips when, with inhuman fortitude, he actually began to climb to his feet once more.

She shook her head and forced her aching limbs to move faster as the barrier, not an arm's reach from her head was accosted by a pane of glass, which exploded on contact, then a host of vines and small trees, no doubt from the largest greenhouse. The first slice of a sliver of vine across her face was nearly the death of both of them as the potion slipped in her hand. After all, without a wand to inscribe the runes, the potion had to act as the conductor of magic. Without it, the whole enterprise went straight to Hades, and they were left with only a rapidly-failing protection spell. She caught the bottle as it fell, though, at the very edge of the lip, between two fingers now slick with sweat and nearly cried with relief.

Severus was not so fortunate.

She never saw what struck him, so swift was its flight, but it threw him the radius of the circle and slammed him into the barrier which shivered one last time, then vanished. Emily froze in shock as the world seemed to slow to a crawl. The earsplitting roar was suddenly even more deafening, but as she looked back impulsively to see a wooden beam the thickness of a young tree hurtling straight for her head, all she heard was her own scream.

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Ellesar Evenstar: Maybe it was an unrelated tangent, but it was damn funny! Your advice, returning to the subject, is always appreciated. You'd be surprised how many little tidbits I've drawn from reviews which have changed the entire face of a story. Just such a small comment made me change my intended ending for the last fanfic I wrote. Speaking of which, Severus' drinking is way tame compared to the way he drank in said last fic. He and Lucius were bloody lushes, and I made frequent reference to it through the OC. Still, if you like, I'll ask him if he thinks he has a problem, and see if he's in denial. Ciao!

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Silverfey: Frickin' YAY!!!!! Damn! It's good to have you home! But, I believe I expressed that in my letter, so perhaps I should desist lest you get the impression that I missed you and that you should NEVER leave me again! 'kay. Sorry about that. Anyhoo... Alex does not exist in these stories. In fact, this story takes place right over the time Not For Sale did, right after the close of OOTP. I'm glad that you find Emily to be "commanding," but I must ask, is that good or bad? Inquiring minds and all that. Can't tell you how good that 'Go, you!' looks on the screen! You take my breath away with your compliments.

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Sesshomaru's angel: Hi! Welcome! Pull up a chair or a pouf, have a cup of tea and a snack. Talk my ears off. I love it! Thanks for the compliments. It's always inspiring to get a new reviewer, to know that there's someone else out there who thinks my work is decent. I will read your fic just as soon as I can, dear. It's flattering that you would be interested in my opinion of your work.

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Lady Jenilyn: Hey! Stop trying to be a bad influence on Severus! Arming a convicted murderer could get him sentenced to life, and though I'm very interested in seeing him in chains, that's not exactly what I had in mind... so cut it out! You will find out why she killed her brother... eventually... Mwuhahahaha!!! Oh, sorry. My bad. I have a condition that makes me do that. Really! Yes. The letter was indeed mean, but damn, it was fun! Admit it, if you thought that you could get away with, you'd have tried to get a rise out of him, too. Not that way! Get that mind of your out of the gutter this instant! So, you like the scene on the back lawn, too? Geez, you guy are pushovers for the smarm! I take it by the numerous references to your feelings on the matter that you do not wish for me to send Emily back to Azkaban. I will take your opinion into consideration of course, but... MWUHAHAHA!!!! Oops! Sorry. There I go again.

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Quietude: Thanks for resending your e-mail and for understanding what a ditz I can sometimes be. As for your being away: goodness, I missed you! No more trips for you... ever! Don't you know that my stories should be your first priority? That's your cue to give me a good, hard, sobering slap. I'm thrilled to know that the new story is still holding your interest! And thanks for letting me know how you feel about my telling the story from both points of view. I appreciate that, as it has been a matter of some debate with me. I'm really glad you've come home, Quietude. Now, have a cup of tea and tell me all about your trip.


	8. Chapter Eight: A Broken Oath

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Chapter Eight: A Broken Oath

Severus groaned long and low, trying to locate any part of him that didn't ache. The glaring pain in his head was the worst, though, and he carefully moved his eyes beneath the lids, hoping to avoid aggravating the headache to the point (not far away) which would cause him to be violently ill. What miniscule glimpses he caught of the world around him as he fluttered his eyes, then closed them again, gave him to know that he was still outside, most likely in the garden, with the sun very low in the sky, possibly even beginning to set, judging by the soft light.

_Mab's heart_, how long had he been unconscious? And where the bloody hell was Emily?

He uncurled his body to facilitate rising, but stopped cold. Bone scraped against bone and a nauseating pain shot through his body. Something was broken, his shoulder and a few ribs from the feel of things. A_h, yes_. Something had crashed into his shoulder early on in that nightmare of a storm. Had it really been dislocated at that point? He had felt nothing, only the aggravation of being interrupted. It shouldn't surprise him. He knew all too well the fever that intense spell casting could cause, blocking out everything but the task at hand.

An unwelcome memory of that blasted Potter hanging onto his broom for dear life as it bucked in the air came rushing back. He had been completely absorbed with the task of deflecting the jinx at the time, and was furious that someone was in the vicinity whose dark power rivaled his own, for the counter curse he was chanting was not a spell of the light and would have shredded the opposing wizard had it been able to reach him. So involved had he been with his task that he hadn't even noticed when his robes had somehow caught fire. It was not until he had retired to his rooms to change the ruined clothes that he'd noticed the stinging pain in his leg. Carefully stripping away the cloth, he'd discovered a nasty, welting burn on his shin from the flames.

Cursing the memory, the father, and the boy in turn, as was his habit, he tried again to lift himself and succeeded. His wand, thankfully, had been pinned beneath him when he fell, thus it had not been blown away. Quickly, he repaired the most serious damage to his body, eyes searching all the while, through slightly hazy vision, for some sign of...

_Ah._

Just there.

Something moved a few meters away, something feathery and red blowing in the light wind. Emily's hair. Struggling to his feet with a grimace and a foul oath, he made his way to the tiny, crumpled ball of robes.

She was bleeding from a nasty cut on her cheek, but was otherwise, thankfully, undamaged. He had just barely managed to throw a shielding charm in front of the screaming woman before the support beam had struck. Unfortunately, he was unable to cast a second spell for himself. Faster than he could react, the beam rebounded off of her ward, spun in the air like a muggle airplane propeller, and plowed into him.

He could only assume that she had finished her task after he'd been rendered insensible, then lost consciousness herself. He glanced at the ruin of the greenhouses, and the smoking, black crater which had once been the eastern rune, then smiled down at the pale, gaunt figure beside it. The woman was as strong as the girl had been - not physically of course. It would be a long while before she regained her former vigor, but her mind had lost none of its sharpness, nor her heart, its tenacious will which called forth such fierce magic.

Fondly, he brushed aside a lock of hair from her too-angular face.

"Emily," he called softly, not wanting to sully the moment with an enervating charm.

To his surprise, she responded to the sound of his voice, whispering his name, or her shortened version of it, into the earth. He placed his fingertips ever-so-gently on her cheek and spoke a quiet healing spell, closing the wicked gash on her face in an instant.

"Can you move?" he asked quietly, not wanting to make any jarring noise for the sake of his own aching head as well as whatever pain she might be feeling.

She gave a brief nod, then moaned lightly at the motion indicating that she was feeling just as unwell as he, his heart constricted at the sound. She deserved so much better than this, so much more than being an unwilling warrior in a battle that no longer had anything to do with her. _Sixteen years in Azkaban. Sweet Merlin_! She'd been free little more than a week and he'd nearly gotten her killed. Was this really the best he could offer her? He closed his eyes against the rapidly-swelling frustration, making a monumental effort to calm himself.

Of all the sounds he expected to hear, a soft, rasping laugh was the last. Nevertheless, it was distinct, the chuckle coming from the emaciated figure on the ground. He stared incredulously, unable to voice his disbelief at the sound. Then, her eyelids opened slowly and she trained her eyes on his.

"What in Merlin's name can you possibly find amusing about this?" he murmured, grimacing against the wildly-accelerating drumbeat in his head.

She squeezed her eyes closed again, suddenly taken over by her mirth, rolling on her side and stretching her hand to rest just on his knee - instinctively, it seemed, craving contact - as she continued to laugh.

"That was incredible," she managed to choke out when the merriment had subsided.

He merely shook his head. Never had he been able to fathom what amused that girl.

"That was damn near the death of both of us," he argued lightly.

"True," she returned, a bit more soberly. Unable to tamp down the emotion, though, her face split into a wide grin once again. "But, it wasn't." A brittle-looking hand reached up and touched his face. "You were amazing, Sev," she whispered, seemingly in awe.

For just a moment, he smirked at how closely the remark resembled something one would say after an intimate encounter, but the stray thought was quickly brushed aside by others. "I performed as necessary to fulfill my duty, Emily. Nothing more."

The comment had not been intended to sting, but he could tell that it had. One irritated sigh later, he tried again. "I was unable to protect you as I should have."

She struggled to a sitting position and then to her feet, eyes focused resolutely on some point in the distance. "No, Sev, really. You _performed as necessary_. No need to apologize."

She managed only a few steps toward the castle before his hand found the curve of her back, and to his amazement she halted at the light touch. _Damn it, he was not a convivial man_! Couldn't she understand how difficult this kind of communication was for him? He hadn't said a truly kind word to anyone in almost twenty years.

How to begin?

"I'm sorry, Emily," he said soberly, stepping as closely as he dared, but drawing his hand away from her body. "I didn't intend to hurt you."

She released a sigh into the wind and turned, searching his face for a moment before replying. "Who _are_ you?"

His surprise was absolute. What kind of question was that?

Thankfully, before he could find a response, she elaborated. "Where did this..." she seemed to struggle for the right words... "cold, hard, shell come from? I hate it." A light touch of her hand on his chest gave him an inexplicable shiver. "I miss you, Severus." She opened her mouth to continue, but closed it again, dropping her head forward to rest on the spot held by her hand a moment before. "I never thought I'd ever feel this way with you."

"How is that?" he whispered.

She raised her face to his, and he was struck by the sudden severity of pain he saw there. "Completely alone," she managed before the tears came.

This was the part he hated_. Anything but this_! In the past two weeks he'd seen her cry twice and those were more tears than he'd witnessed from her in the lifetime they'd been together... before she joined the unholy ranks of Death Eaters. For him, those tears could not be quenched quickly enough.

"Emily, please don't," he murmured into her hair, stroking her head softly. "I didn't intend...." _You have already indicated that, Severus Snape_. He sighed, collected his thoughts, and began again. "I am ever your Severus. Much has changed, but not that. _Never_ that." His hands fell away from her head and wrapped around her frail form. For a while, he held her, just as he had when she'd first recognized him.

"Emily, look at me," he said at last.

A muffled sniff came from somewhere below and she took a few deep, shuddering breaths, trying to calm herself. Finally, she stepped back a bit and raised her red, swollen eyes to his.

"The Headmaster asked me, nearly commanded me, to rescind my offer to take this assignment, afraid that our friendship would overshadow my sense of duty to the Order. However, Lupin was the only other member who offered. I was not about to trust him with the freedom the Ministry had given us to take your life at the slightest provocation." Her eyes widened at that, and he let the implicit warning sink in before he continued. "I doubt that he would have deliberately murdered you, but his hatred of you is such that he would not have protected you as I felt I could." He traced her face with the back of a long forefinger. "Imagine my frustration at not being strong enough to do what I promised you I could," he finished, the bitterness he felt bypassing his emotional filter and slipping out with the words. "I failed you, Emily, and that is unacceptable to me."

"You didn't fail me, Sev," she protested, seeming to understand at last. "We survived. I believe I pointed that out earlier." She took his hand in hers, casually interlacing their fingers as she began to stroll back to the castle, and he tried to seem less backward than he felt. "If I'd been as strong as I used to be, I would've toasted that rune before your ward even began to waver. So, really, you could blame me... if you truly feel the need to assign fault."

"That is not the case."

"It certainly seems to be," she said tiredly.

A few steps were taken in silence.

"My head hurts, Sev."

"I shall remedy that expediently."

She shot him a sidelong glance, and he pointedly ignored it, knowing that she was waiting for more emotional revelations of his most heartfelt feelings. She would _not_ be getting them. He had told her more than enough already, and what he was about to do... He didn't even like to think about it. Better to just have done with it as quickly as possible and see to the consequences as they presented themselves.

At long last, they reached the dungeons where he administered a palliative potion to both of them, then ordered her to shower and change into something presentable.

"Are we going out?" she asked teasingly.

"After a fashion, yes," he replied without even a hint of mirth. "Do hurry, please."

* * *

Half an hour later, they stood outside the gates of the castle. He, still mentally reviewing his justification for doing this and she, wondering what was going on. The look of puzzlement on her features had grown more intense with each quiet order, but she seemed determined to prove her trust by not questioning him. When he commanded her to pull her hood up and keep it there, her resolve finally broke.

"_Why_?" she asked, crossing her arms stubbornly as he reached out and pulled the hood up for her. "Where are we going?"

He held out his hand silently and she just looked at it.

"Do you not trust me?" he asked sarcastically, producing a caustic _look_ from her.

"About as much as you trust me," she answered angrily.

He smiled down at the sour face she'd turned up at him.

"How appropriate," he whispered, snatching her forward and wrapping her in his arms. They arrived at their intended destination before she could even issue a squeak of protest.

She pulled away as soon as his grip lessened, straightening her robes haughtily.

"Honestly!" she fumed. "Whisked away like some untrained child! I don't know what possesses you some...." her protest was cut off as her eyes adjusted to the gloom of Knockturn Alley. Instinctively, she gave her hood a tug, making certain that it covered her features completely, and he nodded approvingly, doing the same.

"Come."

She followed obediently, but he kept a grip on her robe's sleeve as a precautionary measure. "It's just here," he whispered, sliding into a dark doorway, and shoving her urgently through the entrance.

The shop was shadowy, but not gloomy, lit by a multitude of hovering, bejeweled, brilliantly-colored candles, the walls lined with narrow, familiar-looking boxes, and a host of silken, heavily-embroidered scarves graced almost every surface. Actually, to Severus, it had always looked like a gypsy tent. Real gypsies, of course, not those carnival side-show freaks that muggles liked to display. The owner was of gypsy ancestry, he was certain, though they'd never discussed it. But, then again, they'd never _discussed_ much of anything.

"Well, well," came a sultry, slippery voice from the shadows, "if it isn't the good professor."

It was impossible to not notice the dangerous narrowing of Emily's eyes as a slinky, half-dressed, raven-haired beauty came slithering out from the direction of the voice and stopped only a breath away from Severus, placing a long-fingered hand with blood-red nails upon his chest with an unmistakable familiarity. He cringed, knowing that there was no way to lessen his friend's discomfort with the obvious role this woman played in his life.

"Oh, aren't we tense?" she purred, her hands immediately snaking up to massage his shoulders.

He disengaged them gently. "I am here on business, Isabelle."

"Not pleasure?" she pouted. "Are you sure? Perhaps we can discuss business later?" With that, her roving hands slipped beneath his cloak and below his waist. His sharp intake of breath betrayed the destination of that wandering hand.

"Isabelle!" he hissed sharply. "Not now."

She grinned evilly. "You can bring your friend." A shifty glance, the first she'd bothered to give, took in Emily's scowling form. "She doesn't look very inviting, though."

"My friend would likely cut your throat if you bared it," he warned, drawing a suspicious glare from Emily. _Come on, Emily. Just play along_. "This is Lady Emily Grey," he said pointedly, drawing her gaze away from him to gawk with new interest at the newcomer.

Severus smiled over the shopkeeper's head at his friend.

"She has need of a wand."

* * *

Author's note: Sorry if the review answers are a bit shorter than usual. I have a wicked tummy bug and have worked all day with a fever. I'll be more talkative next time, I promise.

Sesshomaru's Angel: I'm pleased that you're enjoying the story, and thank you for returning. I know I've mentioned this before, but I am going to R&R your story. Please forgive my slacking off lately. Soon, I promise.

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Elessar Evenstar: I think that the idea of Severus in AA is hilarious in a very perverse kind of way. The pictures and quotes it brings to mind are just too much! I'm pleased that you enjoyed the chapter. It gave me a hell of a time, so the ease with which this one flowed was quite a relief! Hope you like it. Your essay sound like a real pisser. Sorry about that.

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Kitty: Intense, huh? That has a nice ring to it. Thanks! It's a relief to know that my OC is not offensive to you. I do my very best to write about unique situations so that a character can develop. The concept of an OC who is revealed to be perfect, especially in the first chapter, is just perverse. There's really nowhere to go from there.

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Silverthreads: Umm... Thanks?

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Intel Ewok: Oohh.. brilliant? Really? Wow, thanks! That makes my tummy feel a bit better. Hope the resolution came quickly enough for you. Portugal sounds interesting. I'm very envious. I'm quite well traveled within the US, but have never been able to travel abroad. It's most distressing. Hope you had a wonderful time!

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Captain Oblivious: I'll take that as a compliment, then, and hope that you continue to read. You have the right idea, by the way. Severus and Emily have never been intimate. They were only ever good friends... until he jilted her in their fifth year. Things kind of went to Hades after that. I'll explain more as the story progresses. There's a huge chunk of their history coming up in the next chapter, in fact.

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Quietude: Hope I pulled you up from the cliff quickly enough. I love to leave people hanging, admittedly, but not for too long. That's just nasty. I've gotten quite a few comments on the fact that Severus knows Emily so well, and am relieved that it is so well accepted. I can see her black-hearted spite being endearing to very few... but every pot has its lid.


	9. Author's Note

**Author's note**: Thanks to everyone for being so understanding about my forced sabbatical. I'm back now and ready to do some storytelling, so without further ado, I present:

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Chapter Nine: Hell Hath No Fury...

Emily looked at Severus as though he'd just handed her the moon, and he pondered whether she realized that he'd given her something much more precious: his trust. He had broken the law by arming a convicted murderer, but that was trivial. Most important in his mind was the fact that he'd broken his word to Dumbledore and placed within his prisoner's grasps the means to escape... though she would have to get by him to do it, not an easy feat by any means.

But, she wouldn't run. She _could_ be trusted with this, he was certain of it. Not because of anything she'd done, but because of who she was. Emily's heart had not changed in the slightest. She was still the girl who risked her life to defy the Dark Lord, stubbornly refusing to betray her brother (initially, at any rate). She would not betray her best friend.

Isabelle was now extending a lean hand which was considered with a wary eye. With an accusing glance at Severus, Emily took the proffered hand in her own and gave the merest of nods.

"Perhaps you'd care to browse the selection in the back?" Isabelle offered.

"No," Severus answered for her, and firmly enough to draw two surprised looks. Were Emily to be caught with a wand, he would, no doubt, be imprisoned. Supplying her with one of the wands in Isabelle's back room would likely earn him a dementor's kiss.

"Something _legal_, if you don't mind, Isabelle."

"Have it your way," she replied sulkily, turning her attention back to her customer. "What might you be interested in, my lady?"

Emily was taken aback. "Shouldn't we find one that's interested in me, instead?" she asked uneasily.

Isabelle's lovely face suddenly twisted into a disbelieving sneer. "Perhaps you should try Ollivander's, _my_ _lady._ My customers are usually adult enough to make their own decisions."

A flash of anger in Emily's eyes was enough to inspire Snape to intervene. "Perhaps, Isabelle, you should consider your words a bit more carefully. We don't want Emily to be in poor spirits when she returns to the Dark Lord's side. Do we?"

_That got a reaction_, he noticed with some satisfaction.

Isabelle paled visibly and fell to her knees in front of an astounded Emily, who eyed Severus furiously over the groveling woman. The potions master gave a small, but devious grin, and she rolled her eyes. He was well-aware of how much she hated to see anyone abase themselves to such a degree. But, he had put the shopkeeper on the defensive, and taken some of the wind from her sails. That, at least, should make Emily happy.

"Forgive me, my lady," Isabelle was saying, clutching her hand in supplication. "I have a wicked tongue, and Lord Snape is such a dear friend that I sometimes forget myself." Severus cringed again. If she wanted to endear herself to Emily, a blatant reminder that she was occasionally his lover may not be the best way to do it.

"Isabelle," he began sternly. "We appreciate your desire to allow my associate to make her own decision, but perhaps it would be wisest to continue in the manner that Emily deems best. And, quickly, if you please. We _are_ in a bit of a hurry."

"Certainly, my lord, certainly," she said, obviously relieved.

In no time at all, she was bustling around in much the manner of Ollivander, asking questions of Emily's heritage, her goals, and her specialty in magic. For, as unwanted as she was by the Death Eaters because of her mixed blood, Isabelle was allowed to live for two reasons: her talents in the bedroom and her gift with wands.

_So, I suppose_, came the unbidden voice of the adolescent in Snape's mind, _that that makes her talented with wands on both counts, doesn't it_? He clamped his mind down on the ridiculous thought and pushed it back before it could escape and cause him to forget himself. Honestly, a few minutes in Isabelle's presence and he was completely at the mercy of his base instincts. But, her completely serious offer to allow Emily to come to her bed with them brought with it a series of rushing images that had the heat rising to his pale cheeks.

It was a pleasure just watching the two of them as they set to work. The whole process of allowing the wand to choose the witch was a new experience for Isabelle. After expressing her initial distaste for the concept, she seemed to consider it to be a worthy challenge.

Emily, for her part, was finding that disliking Isabelle was next to impossible. The shopkeeper was a slightly darker creature than Emily, but they had a great deal in common and soon the two were chatting amiably as they searched for the right wand. Through many abortive attempts which included a shelf blown from a display case, two bejeweled candles zapped from the air causing a small fire, and a hole burned through the back wall, they laughed and talked and, Severus noted with some apprehension, seemed to bond, until at long last the perfect instrument was found.

It was a fantastic wand, he had to admit. Thirteen inches, highly-polished yew whose core consisted of all six fangs of a runespoor. A powerful weapon to be sure. As they left the shop, Isabelle drew Emily into a quick embrace as she whispered something which brought a startled expression to his old friend's eyes, and inspired her to bestow the shopkeeper with a tiny kiss on her forehead. Isabelle drew back from the embrace and smiled mysteriously as Severus looked on with curiosity which he refused to show. The way that Emily kept secrets, he'd likely never find out what the exchange had been all about, and for some reason it annoyed him to no end. He could search Isabelle's mind, true, but not in front of Emily, and after this affair was ended it would be moot.

It was a bit awkward, paying for the wand as Emily watched, knowing that she had no means to do so herself, and all too aware of the pain that her dependence caused her. Isabelle's incessant flirting as he did so did nothing to relieve her discomfort, and it plagued him to see her so obviously embarrassed. His frustration was sealed when, as they prepared to leave, Isabelle rose up on her toes and planted a slow, sensual kiss on his damnably compliant mouth.

Ah, sweet Isabelle. She had a kiss that could bring the strongest men to their knees. All it did for him presently, however, was remind him of just how many men she got around to entertaining... and how many of them were Death Eaters who did not need to know of Emily's freedom. Isabelle was not known for her discretion. Knowing Snape as she did, she didn't even bother to look surprised when she found his wand between her eyes.

* * *

"Check," Severus intoned, sipping lightly at a steaming cup of tea.

Emily swore savagely under her breath, searching the chessboard furiously. It was futile, though. She was trapped, had spent far too many resources in attack and none at all in defense, but that was ever her way. Soon, she simply shook her head and sat back with a huff.

"It's check_mate_, and you know it." She crossed her arms and scowled down at the pieces as they shuffled back to their original places, the game having been conceded. "You are a very bad man to take advantage of a woman whose mind is still so overwhelmed," she chided with a soft smile, running a single finger over the wand on the table. She hadn't taken her eyes off of it for more than a few seconds since it was placed in her hand. Indeed, she seemed wholly enamored with it, and for the first few hours away from the shop, Severus allowed himself to believe that this was the reason she hadn't so much as looked in his direction, but he knew better. That had everything to do with Isabelle.

"What did she say to you?" he asked quietly. Emily looked up inquiringly. "When she whispered in your ear," he clarified. "What did she say?"

She looked back down at the wand, still caressing it lightly. "Had it been intended for your ears, she would have said it aloud." A sudden scowl announced that she felt his mental intrusion and did not appreciate it. "Don't even consider it," she warned lightly, affecting a slight upward turn of the potion master's mouth.

"I wouldn't risk your wrath," he replied. "Particularly now that you are armed." He eyed the wand with just a shadow of trepidation, and she leaned forward in her chair, waving away the table which lay between them.

"As if you wouldn't kick my arse in a duel," she retorted with a laugh. When the uncertain look in his eyes remained unchanged, she sobered. "I swear to you, Severus, I _will_ be worthy of your trust," she stated resolutely. A curious look came over her, then, a confused musing in her eyes. "Unlike Isabelle... apparently."

Snape steepled his fingers before his mouth. _Ah, here it comes_.

"I can only assume that's why you Obliviated her, because she can't be trusted."

"One could assume that, yes," he replied casually, rising abruptly from his chair to stand before his bookcase.

She was directly on his heels. "That is _not_ an answer."

He sighed irritably and turned to face her. For a moment, he tried to step back for she was far too close, but the bookshelf was directly behind him.

"No," he stated firmly, staring down at her slightly upturned face. "She cannot be trusted."

"But, she's sharing your bed?"

Lips pursed beneath a raised brow. "Actually, since you seem so determined to be accurate, _I_ share _her_ bed... on occasion."

A flash of pain crossed her features, but she hid it quickly. _Very good, Emily_, Severus thought. _I almost missed that. Every moment, you come closer to being the Slytherin you once were_.

"You share _her_ bed," she repeated. "You don't even trust her enough to allow her in your chambers... but she's your lover."

"That is the occasional consensus between us, yes." He scowled down at her face which was showing more signs of disapproval by the second. "Are you approaching a point, or are you merely confused by the basic concept?"

She crossed her arms between them. "No, Severus. I'm fairly familiar with the concept, thank you."

"Then what," he asked testily, "is the quandary?"

"I just can't believe that you violated your lover's mind." She considered him a moment longer before speaking again. "Obliviating a stranger is one thing, but doing something that horrible to someone who is so close to you is awfully..."

The sentence tapered off, and she was suddenly eyeing him with a terrible look of dawning comprehension as he silently cursed his foolishness. In the instant he'd let down his guard, she'd seen the truth in his eyes. He was beginning to recall the frustration that accompanied the joy of having such an intimate friend.

Severus sighed deeply, considering the question in her eyes, the answer which he knew he _should_ give her, and the price he would likely pay for telling her the truth instead. She would not easily accept what he had done to her, but perhaps it was time they discuss the matter.

"Why?" she breathed.

"Perhaps I should show you," he whispered.

Drawing his wand slowly, he placed the tip to his forehead, then drew it away revealing a gleaming silver thread. This he brought to her own brow and with a muttered charm, they were drawn together to a day long ago, a day completely clear in his mind, as though nothing could ever make the memory fade.

* * *

The Grey estate was remarkable in the winter months, a crystalline palace with the stone turned silver in the winter's radiance and the grounds blanketed in purest white. The house-elf, at the Lord's request, always made certain to have the welcoming candles in the windows enchanted to burn with flames of palest blue. It was an enchanting place to find oneself, and one Severus had always looked forward to visiting. Today, however, the beauty of the place and the person it sheltered was like a shard of glass through his heart.

It was unnecessary to entreat entrance at the door. As soon as his feet gained the stone steps,

a familiar house elf was waiting to escort him.

"Lady Grey will be most pleased that you have come, sir." The fat bobbing creature gave a sincere smile in anticipation of his mistress' delight. As Severus followed his retreating silver and blue tea towel through the mansion, he tried not to dwell on the fact that Emily would be anything but happy to see him.

Halfway to her wing, they encountered a kindly face, the last one Snape wanted to meet at the moment.

Lord Grey, however, oblivious to his guest's deeply troubled mind, greeted him warmly as always. "Ah, Severus, it is a delight to see you."

"And you, sir, as always," he said as kindly as he could manage.

"It has been far too long, Severus, but your timing is impeccable," the wizened wizard confided in the whisper of a conspirator. He hesitated, though, for a tense moment in which Severus feared that the man might begin to ask uncomfortable questions. He needn't have worried. His skill at hiding his feelings allowed him to conceal even the violent torrent of emotions that would have torn a lesser man apart. When the Lord continued, Snape found that the hesitation was innocuous.

"I suppose I owe you the respect of your title, though, Lord Snape." He placed a wrinkled hand on Snape's cold cheek. "How strange it is to be calling you that, my boy. It seems only yesterday that you were falling from your toy broom and scowling at my daughter who found such mirth in your lack of athleticism." Severus gave a flash of a smile, knowing that Lord Grey was merely stating a fact and meant no insult by it.

"If I have been nothing else in my years, I have ever been a source of amusement for Emily. There is a sort of strange comfort in that."

"Of course there is. It is ever a joy to bring a smile to the face of a beautiful girl, and you have managed to do so for more years than I can place. It is an honor to have you in my home again." They proceeded down the hall for several strides before he spoke again. "My Emily is in desperate need of your valued company, Severus. Perhaps you can, once again, bring a smile to my beloved child's face."

With a final nod, the man strode down the adjoining hallway toward his own wing, the picture of aged strength and grace. It took a very trained eye to notice that both were failing, and had been for twenty years. Emily and Eric had come to him much later in life than the children of most wizarding families. Indeed, he had been in his fifties when he sired them. The Lord and Lady, for nine months had been incredibly happy, but the complications of giving birth to twins had been too much for Lady Grey, a renowned auror of advancing age. She had breathed her last cradling the newborns in her arms, a peaceful smile upon her lovely face.

Severus shook the melancholy story from his mind as he knocked on Emily's door. It had been years since he'd done so, but considering how estranged they had become, it seemed appropriate. At least he hadn't felt compelled to have the house elf announce him like a perfect stranger.

"Come," called the distracted call from within; so sharp, so unlike the warm, funny voice of his beloved friend. Upon entering he found her surrounded with parchments and books, stacked in skewed piles on and around the desk. A small place in front of her chair had been cleared of the mess to accommodate the parchment on which she presently scribbled furiously, brow furrowed in concentration: a mind on hire by the Ministry of Magic who'd come upon a very old runic tablet and asked for her assistance.

"How goes the translation, my lady?"

A snap announced the breaking of the quill in her grip, and a dramatic increase in tension. She looked at him with eyes that danced with a myriad of emotions: fear, longing, guilt, even triumph. She had expected him to come, that was obvious. Even after three years of almost no contact, somehow she knew.

"Severus," she finally managed. "Dare I hope that this isn't a business call?"

"It is not," he answered. "This is an entirely personal matter, but one of great importance."

She wasted no time in ordering tea for them both and escorting him to the balcony which had been warmed for her own comfort. She adored watching the falling snow, but was much less than fond of the chill that came with it.

"I've missed you so much, Severus," she said fondly. "I can't believe you're here."

"Truthfully, neither can I, but I must speak with you." He glanced around uneasily. "Is it safe?" he asked pointedly.

"Completely private," she assured him. "No need for concern."

He nodded briefly, tapping a long digit on his teacup, trying to collect his thoughts. This had to work. Somehow, she had to be made to see reason.

"Emily, I have come about the ceremony tomorrow."

There it was again, that unmistakable flash of triumph in her eyes. It didn't bode well, but he continued unabated.

"I must ask you to reconsider," he said as tactfully as he could manage. "You have no idea what you are doing."

Vibrant green faded and fell into shadow as her lids narrowed over her eyes.

"I don't believe this," she hissed. "Three years of stone silence, and you come to my home at long last to lecture me about my ignorance?" Her voice rose with every word until he was sure they'd be overheard, privacy spell or no.

"Emily, whatever the Death Eaters have told you about the Dark Lord..."

"Whatever they've told me is all I have, Severus Snape," she spat. "You sure as hell haven't been a fountain of information."

"I have come to remedy that," he stated, a tiny hint of warning in his voice. Childhood friends or no, she knew better than to raise her voice to him. "Have you been told what will be expected of you before you take the Mark tomorrow?"

The self-assured arrogance in her eyes wavered just a bit.

"No."

"You will be expected to take a life of the Dark Lord's choosing to prove your loyalty, your willingness to kill for him. Can you do this?"

"Did you?" she asked tonelessly. He nodded once. "Then, so can I."

"You don't know what you're saying. You are blinded by the taste of power he has given you."

"I didn't need his 'taste of power,' Severus Snape. I have my own, just as I have my own reasons for taking the Mark."

"Emily, I have served him for over a year and I can tell you from personal experience that he is not what he seems." He was up, now, looking over the gardens, clutching the sharp-edged railing in a grip that threatened to tear his hands. "He is a monster who knows no wisdom, and wants nothing less than the domination of the entire world. He kills without conscience, sometimes without even a reason; and, it's not always the muggle-born or muggles themselves. Any witch or wizard of pure blood who stands in his path will be destroyed as well. That marks your family as crucial targets. What if it's your brother he asks you to dispose of, or your father? For as aurors, they will have to be eliminated eventually, and you have the perfect access - their trust. Did you not wonder why he so readily accepted your offer?"

When he turned, he faced a livid creature, her lovely face twisted with hate.

"How **dare** you?" she spat. "I thought that you, of all people, would at least acknowledge my value to them. My worth is not defined by my connection to my family or my value as breeding stock!"

"What does that..."

"Do you really think I care if they kill my family?" she cut in viciously. "What is **their** value to **me**, Severus? I am nothing but an asset to be auctioned off to the highest bidder in the eyes of Daddy dearest, and to my brother, I'm an embarrassment. His own twin sister, the black sheep of the Grey family. What a shame he had to share a womb with a Slytherin! The sooner they marry me off and I begin churning out pure bloods, the better for them." She stepped closer, breathing heavily, a thin veil of ominous magic building between them. Snape's hand twitched, anxious to reach for his wand. "I will **not,**" she continued in a low hiss, "have my life dictated to me by anyone, any longer. The Dark Lord will see to that."

"Your father only wants what is best for you, Emily," he said quietly. "As do we all. You're right, though," he added, cold once more in the face of her heat. "You are valuable. You can be used, and The Dark Lord will use you until there is nothing left, then he will dispose of you. Or, perhaps," he whispered, closing the distance until he was only a breath away, and taking her face between her hands like a lover, "he will toss you to his Death Eaters... as an amusement. And, when they tire of toying with you..."

He couldn't bring himself to finish the sentence. The widening of her eyes gave him to know that she understood his meaning perfectly. He was close, very close to changing her mind. Just a little nudge could keep her from making the same mistake he had. Perhaps it was this that wrested his tongue from him and allowed it to express things that he would not have dared to utter otherwise.

His forehead fell to hers as he spoke. "Emily, I beg you. Do **not** do this. Please, love. They will destroy you, and I cannot bear it." With that, his mouth descended upon hers in a kiss that was at once tender and desperate, and she responded willingly, achingly, her muscular arms wrapping around his waist and pulling him even closer. Her lips parted for him at the slightest coaxing and when their tongues met, he released a long, low moan into her mouth.

How long, exactly, they remained this way was difficult to tell, but it was long enough that, when she pulled away, he was flushed and breathless. Perhaps that was how she caught him off guard, a damnably difficult thing to do.

It was a slow swing, but there was a world of fury behind it and before he could even begin to comprehend what she'd done, he was clutching at an explosion of pain, his body still turned away from the force of the blow. The telling metallic taste bespoke her venom. Nevertheless she opened her mouth to add to it.

"Three years ago, Severus, before you ripped my heart to pieces, that would have worked," she spat. "But, no more. I have no way of knowing where our paths will lead us in our service to the Dark Lord, but as we were once friends, I will give you one warning. If you hinder my advancement in any way, I will kill you."

The words fell like a death knoll on his ears. She couldn't possibly be serious, but the rage in her eyes told a different tale. Emily was well and truly gone... and this stranger in her guise knew far too much about his lack of allegiance. Fortunately, she had never been able to match his dueling speed, and his wand was out before she had even reached for her own. It hadn't cleared the sheath before his words rang out, clear and final against the silence of the falling snow.

"Obliviate!"


	10. Chapter Ten: Screams In the Night

For all of you who are joining me after my absence, please note that I replaced the author's note chapter with actual content, so if you haven't read chapter nine... "Turn back, Sarah. Turn back before it's too late."

Chapter Ten: Screams In the Night

Emily pulled away first, stepping back from Severus in absolute horror. A second step was all she managed before dashing for the lavatory and slamming the door behind her. There was no time for a silencing spell, but the sound of her violent retching was the least of her concerns.

_Please, please, please someone tell me that wasn't real._

But, the truth was inescapable. For years she had wondered why Severus had never spoken to her about her alliance with the Dark Lord. She remembered, quite vividly, sitting at that desk, in fact, working on the translation for the Department of Mysteries, and wondering whether Severus was ever going to approach and congratulate her on a good decision, on her courage and intelligence and foresight.

Now she knew that he had come, not to encourage her, as she'd hoped, but to coax her away from the path that had eventually destroyed her. _Sweet Mab_, he had even pleaded with her, something she'd never known him to do. He had tried, and she had hated him for it, had actually struck him.

_Ah, Severus, why are you even here? How can you speak to me so gently after what I did to you?_

He'd kissed her, actually kissed her, and gods, what a kiss! And the words that he had spoken to her, the sweetest words she'd ever heard come from his mouth... She stopped. Replayed the vision in her head. Oh, _gods_! Covering her face with her hands, she sank to the floor.

He'd called her his love.

The one thing she'd always wanted to hear from him, the one thing she'd always needed and never had, and she'd treated it like so much refuse. _By all the gods, what kind of monster had I become?_

My sweet Severus. If I lost your love that day, then I truly have lost everything.

No. She could not let this be. If he loved her once, then he could love her again.

She stood up to peer into the mirror which chuckled darkly. "Seen better days, have we?"

"Sod off," she shot back absently, studying her reflection. There was no way to deny the mirror's observation, though. She certainly had looked better. Since she'd awakened in Sev's home, it had not occurred to her to bother with improving her appearance as she wasn't planning to live long enough to develop any kind of captivating social life, but now... Now, there was work to be done.

She was thin. That was the first thing she noticed. Far, far too thin. Pathetically frail, actually. For Merlin's sake, she had been one of the best beaters Hogwarts had ever seen. She'd once knocked Crabbe to the ground with a single punch. Granted, they'd been fourteen at the time, but the same principal applied. She had been strong, stronger than most of the wizards she knew, and much, much stronger than Severus... merely from a physical point of view.

Now, Severus towered over her (When had he grown so much?) and had filled out ever-so-nicely through the chest and shoulders. As for the rest of him, well, close as they were, she'd never seen him beneath the stuffy robes he'd always insisted on wearing, but maybe someday...

She had also completely lost her natural coloring and was now a pasty white, the color of a fish's underbelly. Her hair was reddish, but no longer the color of newly-turned maple leaves. Her eyes were shadowed, her cheeks hollow. Her nails cracked and peeling from the lack of nourishment.

There was so much work to be done, now, and she rejoiced in it. Having something to do besides plod through ancient reference books on elementals promised to be fun. And Isabelle's whispered words, "I often wondered who you were. He still calls out for you in his sleep," gave her hope.

After a thorough cleansing of her mouth, she reentered the office to see Severus waiting on the sofa. Hesitantly, waiting for a nod of invitation, she sat down and turned to face him, trying not to be distracted by the memory of his mouth on hers.

"Sev," she started, her voice a little too cracked for her approval. She cleared her throat and started again. "Sev, I'm... I don't know what to say. I'm so..."

He held two fingers to her lips, softly, just barely touching, a whisper of an intimate gesture.

"Don't," he whispered. "It was a lifetime ago, Emily, for both of us."

Oh, that last part stung. A lifetime ago he had loved her.

What would this one bring?

* * *

Headmaster,

I am pleased to report success in the first stage of our assignment. Miss Grey handled the task with the alacrity to which I am accustomed, and I was quite able to shield us both from danger as she worked. Unfortunately, the tornado which sprang from the circle did a great deal of damage, and I fear you will have to inform Professor Sprout that her garden and greenhouses have been quite thoroughly destroyed. I do not envy you that task.

We shall take a day of rest tomorrow, then start anew the day after. As always, I shall keep you informed of our progress.

S. Snape

* * *

Severus,

I've gone out to the Quidditch pitch. I'll be back in time for breakfast.

-Emily-

* * *

Severus read the note at a glance, then checked the clock. It was awfully early for Emily to be up and about, but a good indication that her spirits were improving. Her elation at having finally acquired a wand seemed to balance her horror at the memory he'd been forced to take from her. Whether that horror stemmed from the fact that he had done so or the memory itself was something he'd have to discuss with her after she'd become more comfortable with what had happened. Of all of Emily's fears, having her mind violated was the worst, and the anguished look she'd given him before racing to empty her stomach had been... unsettling, at best.

For now, though, he allowed himself the luxury of a small smile. The Quidditch equipment was locked away for the summer, but Emily would have the storage room open without a second's hesitation. Occasionally, it failed to occur to her that doors were locked for a reason. It mattered not a whit to Severus. Breaking into the storage room simply meant that she was a step closer to being the woman he remembered. Pocketing the letter, he strode out to the pitch, hoping to catch of glimpse of how she was faring on a broom after all these years.

Astounding did not go quite far enough to describe it. For all the grace she'd lost on the ground, she had lost none of her poise in the air. Wildly she dove, twisting, dancing on her broom as two highly irate bludgers attempted to unseat her. It was no use. The bludgers were no match for Emily, arguably Slytherin's finest beater ever. She slid through the air effortlessly, laughing merrily as she pounded one gibbering ball through a hoop at the far end of the pitch. Unfortunately, bludgers never learned, and this one returned quickly, racing for her head as she chased the wind to the other side.

Severus was a bit disappointed when she spotted him and dove for the ground, scooping up both balls as she came. After wrestling the infuriated bludgers back into their case, she approached him warily, no doubt worried that she'd be scolded, and he stood unmoving - merely allowing her to advance. Chuckling inwardly, he donned his most severe expression, folding long arms across his chest, a position that made his students cringe.

Meanwhile, he allowed himself to be captivated by her advance, watching in carefully disguised fascination as the wind blew the untamed mane of hair across her face and plastered her pilfered Quidditch robes tight against her body, a body which seemed to become less frail every hour - not quite the woman she was, but most certainly a woman.

"Morning, Severus," she began tentatively.

He forced his features into an icy mask. "Indeed it is, Miss Grey," he answered coldly, eyeing the case, the broom, and the robes in turn.

"I only borrowed them," she said pleadingly. "I didn't think you'd be..." She hesitated, uncertainty shadowing her features as the flicker of a smirk appeared at the edge of his mouth.

"Severus Snape!" she scolded hotly. "That's just nasty! Did you come down here to terrorize me?"

"I was merely curious to see whether the traditional adage was true, that once one learns to ride a broom..."

"One never forgets?" she finished for him. He nodded once. "Well, what do you think?" she asked lightly.

"I think that you need to put away those _requisitioned_ supplies and come to breakfast."

"No praise for my flying?" she pouted. "I'm offended. You used to love to watch me play."

_I used to love to watch you do anything_,_ and unfortunately that has not changed_.

"You refrained from falling," he replied dryly. "I suppose that's something."

Emily rolled her eyes. "You are a lost cause, Sev," she chuckled. "Just let me drop these off and I'll be down."

He watched her walk away, an inexplicable sadness suddenly tugging at his heart. Pangs of regret, memories of things which could never be recovered washed over him, and the fleeting spark of happiness he'd felt as he'd watched her fly sputtered and died leaving him, at least briefly, colder than before she'd come.

* * *

Emily lay quietly, straining to hear. There it was again, that strange moaning sound coming from somewhere outside the door. _Probably just Peeves_, she thought, staring up into the blackness of the overhead canopy. The resident poltergeist had been up to all manner of mischief, lately. With the students gone, he was restless, even more so than usual, and had become such an unbearable nuisance that Severus had threatened to banish him to oblivion. He'd been remarkably well-mannered ever since.

Another sound cut through the blackness then, utterly unmistakable. Someone was shouting. In a moment, she was out of bed, wand in hand. She'd passed out of her rooms and into the office when another cry gave her a sense of direction. The sounds were coming from Sev's room, and from his mouth at that.

A witch with more sense would've been more cautious, but concern for Severus overrode her better judgment and she crept through the darkness, allowing tiny slivers of moonlight to illuminate her path. She slipped through the door, fully expecting to find any manner of foul creatures, but the room was empty save for a violently twitching potions master, his cries apparently motivated by a rather severe nightmare. He cried out again as a shudder racked his body, and Emily padded softly to his bed, sheathing her wand as she went.

A closer inspection revealed that he was bathed in sweat and panting heavily. It was enough to convince her to wake him. Tentatively, she reached out a hand to touch his shoulder, whispering his name tenderly into the night.

A moment of blinding movement and unbelievable strength and she was on her back beneath him, his wand pressed to the base of her throat.

"Avada..." he seethed through tightly-clenched teeth.

"No!" she screamed, making a desperate lunge for his wand with the hand that wasn't pinned under his knee. The attempt was aborted with a lightning grab and the hand slammed down beside her head with a savagery she hadn't known he possessed.

"Sev, it's me!" she shouted into his face, her terrified voice cracking at the end. "It's Emily, damn you! Wake up!" His grip tightened on her wrist and he growled, actually snarled in her face like a rabid animal. "_Fucking Merlin_, Sev, please!" she shrieked as he began the fatal incantation anew.

Abruptly, though, he faltered, brow furrowed deeply in indecision as he glanced to the side, trying to ascertain his location. His eyes found hers again a moment later and she nearly cried at the spark of recognition within them. Slowly, the last of the fury released his features and they began to relax, the deep lines smoothing over.

"Emily?" he whispered, rich baritone laced with uncertainty.

"It's me, Sev," she panted, worn out from the few moments of violent struggle. _Not that it availed me much_, she thought wryly, extremely unnerved at the ease with which he'd subdued and almost killed her. "You were dreaming."

She almost kicked herself for stating the obvious. That was one of Snape's pet peeves, and it was a mark of how troubled he was that he didn't immediately lash out at her. _He **should** hold his tongue, damn it_! _I deserve some reward for not soiling his sheets_, she thought, once again feeling a swell of terror at the thought of his power.

Slowly, still very wary, he drew his wand from her throat and relaxed his grip on her wrist, but did not release her. Emily was suddenly all too aware of his body... and even more so of her body's reaction to being pinned down beneath him. How many times had she entertained this fantasy? And no matter how much she wanted to deny that the danger made it damn near irresistible, she simply couldn't. Before she could even consider making some sort of first move, he spoke.

"What are you doing in my chambers?"

She grinned sheepishly. "Rescuing you?"

A single eyebrow raised in question.

"You were shouting," she explained simply.

There was a sudden flash of understanding as Severus instantly put together the rest of the details in his mind, smirking down at her as though she were... well, as if she were a helpless woman trapped beneath him.

"It would seem that your mission failed, Lady Grey," he intoned, with a quiet, barely restrained glee. "I would have had a more difficult time subduing a wrinkled cuff."

She laughed gamely because he expected it, having made a very rare joke, but her mind was utterly consumed with the endeavor of watching his mouth as it wrapped itself around his words, the memory of their first and only kiss playing itself over and over in her mind as he spoke.

He read it in her eyes, he must have, and for a few brief, beautiful moments she saw him actually consider it. Her gaze moved then, from eyes to mouth and back again - questioning, requesting, nearly pleading. _Please, Sev. Just give me another chance_.

It was disturbing, humiliating, really, how close she came to vocalizing her protest when he pulled away from her, kneeling in the middle of the great bed, considering her carefully.

"This is wholly inappropriate, Emily," he said quietly. "You should go."

Feeling compromised, she sat up as well, folding her legs in front of her. "I'm not leaving until I'm sure you're alright."

"It should not require a licensed mediwizard to see that I am quite sound."

"What were you dreaming about?" she asked, stubbornly refusing to accept defeat.

A flash of pain creased his brow, but he recovered almost instantly, sighing in irritation at her persistence. "I _could_ simply throw you out and ward the door," he warned with an imperious glare.

"You could," she agreed simply, rising to her knees to match his height. A gentle brush of her fingers smoothed the hair from his face as he continued to glare, but he offered no protest. "Or, you could talk to me."

Her hand moved, of its own volition, it seemed, to trace his forehead, his cheek, then - trembling slightly - feathered across his lips. She swallowed thickly at the look of stern warning his eyes now held. "Or not," she managed to whisper before moving to claim those lips with her own.


	11. Chapter Eleven: A Welcome Oath

****

Chapter Eleven: A Welcome Oath

Severus pulled away at the last moment, a strong hand suddenly on her shoulder, halting her progress.

"Don't," he said simply, the commanding tone leaving no room for defiance.

"I'm s- "

"Don't do that, either," Severus added soberly. "Don't apologize for wanting this, and I will never seek absolution for being foolish enough to consider it."

"Is it me?" She waited, tense, dreading the answer, but Severus only smiled - one of those rare, genuine smiles that few would ever be privileged enough to see.

"No, Emily. It is most definitely not you."

"Isabelle, then?"

His lips tightened in displeasure at the question. Instead of answering, he motioned for her to move back. She readily complied, resting her back against the highly-polished black headboard as he lay on his back, his head resting in her lap, just as he'd done when they were children.

It was a ploy, she knew, to distract her from the line of questioning about Isabelle. Apparently, that subject was not open for discussion. He did choose to continue talking, however, for which she was extremely grateful.

"Understand, Emily," he began gently, "that I made a promise to a man who has been like a father to me, the only one I've ever known."

"Dumbledore, I assume?"

He nodded once, eyes closed in pleasure as she began to run her fingers through his hair. "I don't understand you, Sev," she sighed, absently wondering when he had cut his hair so short. It had been past his shoulders when last she'd seen him, a sleek spill of thick, black satin; and she missed it immensely. "Dumbledore all but threw you to the wolves, asking you to spy for him when you came to him for help."

"He didn't," came the soft reply. She looked down at his handsome face, a puzzle of sharp angles in the shadows. "I returned to the Dark Lord of my own volition... after Dumbledore risked his considerable reputation to clear my name."

"Merlin's sake, Sev. I've never heard you sound so... noble." She couldn't help the slight sense of disgust she felt at using such a distasteful term to describe him. "Maybe you should've taken over the Gryffindor house."

"Bite your tongue, woman," he snapped. "I am no such thing, and you know it. My decision made perfect sense, else I would never have considered it. I want the Dark Lord dead," he said simply. "I want his Death Eaters brought to their knees, and there is only one wizard with the power to see that done. I feed him information because I am certain that he will accomplish what no one else can."

Absently, he entwined his fingers with the ones on her unoccupied hand and brought them both to his chest. "I will not suffer being bound until death by a madman." He fell silent, playing with her fingers for a few moments, then pulled her wrist to his mouth for a chaste kiss. The sleeve of her gown he pulled up abruptly, exposing the crisscrossing lines of ugly scars and the untainted Dark Mark in the center. For a moment, the connection that they shared in their younger days was revived as he looked a question at her, and she immediately understood.

"I chipped a piece of stone from the wall of my cell and sharpened it on the floor," she answered simply. "Not quite as effective as a good blade... unfortunately. But, it was all I had."

Grimacing at the revelation, he moved to sit up, ebony hair spilling into his face as he did so. A pale hand reached up to comb it back and froze, eyes widening in shock as they moved to hers.

For a moment, she simply stared back in confusion, unsure of what had unsettled him, then she noticed his hair. It had grown, not a great deal, but enough to spill slightly over his shoulders as it had in his youth. In fact, it looked exactly the way she remembered it.

"How?" he breathed, fingering a dark length of new growth.

She shook her head mutely, staring in open-mouthed wonder. "I didn't do it."

"I believe you did," he refuted, running his fingers through the long mane and holding it up for closer inspection. "I've not seen you do anything like this since you were a child."

"Actually, when I first arrived at Azkaban, one of the Ministry's analysts tried to... take advantage," she was pleased to see his face tighten in anger, "but his hands broke out into bleeding boils when he touched me. It's not unheard of for someone deprived of a wand to revert to the ability to perform wandless magic under great duress. Initially, I assumed it was just an overflow of power from the Dark Lord."

Severus nodded. "It is a glut of power that he offers, that's certain," he agreed, still toying with the ends of his hair. "I must confess that I was surprised when you turned from that power for the sake of your family. That took great strength."

She couldn't help but smile and, judging by the rising heat, a vivid blush was painting her cheeks, as well. The pleasure quickly faded though with the memory of Voldemort's fury and her father's subsequent death. Moodily, she slumped back on the pillows, staring up at the black canopy.

"A great lot of good it did us," she muttered bitterly. "If I'd killed him myself, I could've at least seen that it was quick," she swallowed thickly, fighting the sudden choke of tears, "and painless."

"I am truly sorry, Emily," he said quietly. "Your father was a good man, one of the few I've ever known."

She sighed deeply, then smiled as heavy lids closed over her eyes. "You did what you had to do, Sev, made the necessary sacrifice, something I've never been strong enough to manage."

Silence was his answer, but just as she began to feel uncomfortable under the weight of his scrutiny, he stretched out beside her, lightly brushing the hair from her face. "You're the strongest woman I know, Emily... in your own, twisted way."

She heard rather than saw the smile as he spoke, and returned it sleepily... before the world fell away beneath her.

* * *

"I feel terrible," came the muffled answer from somewhere beneath the mound of blankets.

"Well, I can't bloody well treat you with several layers of linen between us," Severus snapped.

"It's too bright out there."

"Oh, for pity's..." Severus muttered a dimming charm, darkening the window and muting the torches on the wall, _something she could've bloody well done herself_, then yanked the covers from her head, scattering a puff of wild hair. "Are you injured or ill?" he queried brusquely.

"My back hurts," she whined into the pillow.

"Is that bloody all?"

"No."

Severus waited impatiently for her to continue.

"My shoulders hurt, as well."

"Then, we shall..."

"_And_ my arms and my _legs..._ and my neck."

He sighed irritably. "Then, we..."

"And I have a headache," she interrupted, pulling the blanket over her head once more and punctuating the action with a yelp of pain. "Now, go away."

He could no more stop his eyes from rolling than he could have stopped the sun from rising... which it had done several hours ago. They should have breakfasted and been on their way to assess the runic circle in the caverns by now, but Miss Grey had found it necessary to have a three hour lie in. _If this is revenge for moving her to her own bed after she fell asleep in mine, I swear the little tart will wish she'd never been born_!

It had only been a few minutes ago that he'd lost all patience with her and stormed into her room insisting that she rise. She had given him a flat and rather filthy refusal before yanking the cover over her head with a willful finality.

A distressed obscenity was heard when he pressed lightly between her shoulder blades. The same result was to be had when he repeated the action with her neck and shoulders. Experimentally, he gave her right arm a tight squeeze, and she accused his father of greatly dishonoring his mother, which warranted a severe reprimand. His parents were not wonderful people by any means, but they'd been well and properly married _before_ his conception.

"Emily Grey, you are merely experiencing a bit of soreness from your activities yesterday. You may conclude your histrionics, now."

Something sounding like a cross between a lascivious invitation and a nasty insult came from beneath the covers, but he chose to ignore it, instead leaving to procure a bottle of oil that would not only ease the pain but relax the tightened, knotted muscles as well.

"Alright, Emily," he began, as reasonably as he could manage, "_get out of bed_, take a very hot bath, then apply this..."

"I am not getting up," she growled. "The damned runes can wait a day. Now, go away!"

Severus ground his teeth, pushing back the urge to hex her. "You wish to be difficult?" he purred smoothly. "Fine."

In an instant the linens were gone, vanished entirely from the bed along with her nightgown, and he was astride her wildly protesting form. A firm press of his wand to the base of her skull stilled her.

"Now," he began silkily, "we can do this under the Imperius curse, or you can lie still and be silent while I attend to your needs. Which do you choose?"

He could practically hear the vicious tirade in her mind that she would have loved to unleash upon him, but the threat of the Imperius hung over her head like an angry dragon, and he waited for the indignant acceptance that he knew would come.

He hadn't long to linger.

"Alright, fine," she snapped quietly, obviously embarrassed. "Just get it over with."

"Get it over with?" he repeated incredulously, his voiced laced with great offense. "What happened to the Slytherin who used to turn every negative situation to her advantage?" he purred, kneading her shoulders with well-oiled hands. To his satisfaction, she moaned aloud at his touch.

On a rare occasion, he'd had the opportunity to do this for Isabelle after she'd been mishandled by other Death Eaters and learned that he had quite an aptitude for it. It was his delight to use that gift now to subdue his charge, and it certainly rivaled any hex or curse he knew for causing a subject to melt beneath his touch. Soon, she had gone from cursing him to whispering his name in pleasure, and he concentrated carefully on not allowing the sound to arouse him as much as it threatened to.

Deftly, he slid his hands to her lower back, working the lean muscle which had begun to develop there. Her body was improving rapidly, but her hurried recovery was also responsible for making her feel as though she'd been wresting a troll. Still, two huge steps forward for one tiny step back wasn't bad. And, he had to admit, running oiled hands over her naked skin was hardly a hardship.

It wasn't until he moved to her thighs and his body began to harden, that he realized he had unwisely begun to enjoy this as much as she. Her breath caught when he began to work the backs of her knees, and the desire to trace the path of his hands with his mouth was almost irresistible.

The famous Snape control won out in the end, though, and within the hour she was back in her gown, yawning and stretching as though she'd just awakened from a long sleep.

"Mab's heart, Severus, you should quit teaching and open a massage parlor on Knockturn!"

He merely smirked and nodded to the fruit-and-scone-laden tray which had appeared with a sharp pop a few seconds earlier. "You should eat," he said, not managing to finish speaking before a second tray, this one filled with eggs and sausages, appeared beside the first. He glanced over his shoulder at the new arrival. "Have you taken to eating meat after all these years?"

She wrinkled her nose. "Not on your life. That must be for you."

He considered her for a long moment, still remembering the feel of her skin beneath his hands. "It's not what I'm hungry for," he said regretfully, "but I suppose I'll have to settle."

"You _don't_ have to, Severus," she responded soberly. "That was my point last night. And thank you for kicking me out of your bed, by the way. You really know how to make a girl feel loved."

"Yes," he agreed casually, giving her a positively wicked smile. "I've been told that I do."

"Don't do that, Severus," she said seriously. "Don't tease me. That's heartless."

An elegant eyebrow lifted before he closed the distance, sealing his mouth over hers possessively. One perfect moment later, she was on her back as he knelt over her, selfishly keeping his body from hers. Despite the lack of danger in this instance, her heart fluttered wildly beneath her breast. A single flick of his tongue and she opened her mouth to him, deepening the kiss, setting a flame of desire that engulfed her in an instant.

"Know this, Emily," he whispered, backing away just enough to break the kiss, his lips still brushing hers, "I am no longer a child. I do _not_ tease."

With that, he began to pull away, hesitating when she tightened her grip on his waist.

"Then, don't stop," she pleaded.

He closed his eyes against her. "Emily..."

She wouldn't, _couldn't_ allow him to finish, instead rising up to crush her lips against his. There was no help for it, really. She'd never been able to resist temptation. Severus was the one with the strong will. Let him stop what he'd started, if he could. It didn't take a genius to tell that he wanted this as badly as she. She fully expected him to pull away, then give her one of his grueling lectures, but to her delight he only eased back a bit, slowing her pace, cooling the fire a few degrees... wresting control once more. A slightly calloused hand stroked her cheek with agonizing tenderness before his lips moved on, grazing her neck with feathery kisses, then returning to her mouth again and again.

_Twenty years_, she thought, _twenty years, I've wanted this, and it's sweeter than I dared to dream_. A frustrated groan escaped him when her hand slipped beneath his loose-fitting shirt, smoothed along his back, and urged his body down to hers. As if some spell had been broken, his body went rigid and his head jerked away from hers.

"No!" he gasped. With a deep, shuddering breath, he drew himself away and stood beside her bed, looking away as he mastered himself once more. Stubbornly, she stood as well, placing a hand lightly, innocently on his chest, a question in her eyes.

"You truly want this?" he whispered to the wall behind her head. "You're certain?"

"Severus Snape," she answered steadily. "I have wanted you for as long as I knew what it meant to want a man."

His gaze returned to hers. "Then, listen to me carefully." He took her face in his hands as he spoke, gently caressing her cheeks with his thumbs. "When this is over." He stopped to plant a soft, lingering kiss on her forehead. "When the school is safe." He placed another on her left cheek. "When you are free." His lips brushed the other cheek. "I will take you to my bed." His lips covered hers briefly. "I will give myself to you." He kissed her again, more deeply this time. "And I will make you my own as you should have been from the beginning," he whispered against her waiting mouth. "This I promise you." He backed away and commanded her gaze sternly. "But. Not. Now. Now there is work to be done."

He turned away and headed for the door, his tray following him obediently. "Eat," he ordered over his shoulder. "You'll need your strength."


	12. Chapter Twelve: A Monstrous Task

**Author's Note:** Once again, I owe a huge of debt of gratitude to my beloved Loaf for helping me with the fighting scene. Thanks, sweetie. You're the best!

**Chapter Twelve: A Monstrous Task**

"What do you see?"

Emily considered the question, rolled it around in her head for a moment as she studied the runes in the circle. Her guess had been correct. This was indeed Tuath, element of earth, and the runes were no less deadly than the ones which had summoned the tornado in the garden. The circle itself was carved into the moist, slightly rocky earth of the cavern floor near the subterranean lake. The air here was musty and wet and cool; and, despite the danger, a sense of peace pervaded.

"Well," she began, "the bad news is that it seems to be just as unpleasant as the first one. But," she continued, pacing the perimeter slowly, "the good news is that the elemental runes themselves aren't connected to the summoning runes."

"Meaning?"

"Meaning that whatever this circle summons shouldn't continue unabated until the circle's destroyed. "

"Shouldn't or won't?" he asked with a scowl. "There's a world of difference."

"Shouldn't," she answered, admitting her lack of certainty. "Assuming the runes summon something that we can fight, we can take it together, then I can dispel the circle in peace."

"Is there any way you can be certain?" he asked.

She shot him a wild grin. "Where's the fun in that?"

He stepped to the edge of the rune and drew his wand with a determined air. "I feel I should warn you that, if you're wrong, I am going to be extremely annoyed with you."

She gave a short laugh. "Do your worst, Professor."

A slight narrowing of the eyes was his only answer before stepping over the edge of the circle.

The reaction was so subtle that at first she thought she'd seriously misjudged the power of the glyph, but the sudden tingle of magic that raced down her spine gave her to know that her assessment had been dead on target. The Professor now stood in a very pretty green glow that swirled around his black robes, then sank back into the earth, leaving the cavern a bit dimmer than before.

Severus looked over his shoulder at Emily, and she gave a small shrug.

With a subtle snap, a tiny crack formed at Snape's feet and he prudently stepped back, aiming his wand at the floor. The fracture spread slowly at first, moving inch by inch in a jagged line toward the edge, then splintering in a single movement to the enormous cavern wall behind them, it stopped. Severus and Emily shared a single, confused glance before the silence was split with a deafening explosion that threw them both from their feet.

They regained their feet a moment later, coughing and sputtering, trying to peer through the cloud of dust, but it was far too thick. Emily gave her wand a commanding wave. "Lumos Maxima," she shouted, illuminating the cavern as if they stood in sunlight.

"Nox," came a terse, baritone command from the side. The room went dim again.

"I beg your pardon?" she argued.

"Firstly, I fight better when I'm not blinded," he hissed. "Secondly, if we can't see it, then it can't see... " The rest was cut off by a panicked cry as he dove to the side to avoid an impossibly huge fist which shot out of the darkness and slammed into the ground, creating a fair-sized crater where he had stood only a second before.

"Sweet fucking Merlin!" Emily breathed, gaping stupidly as the dust finally settled to reveal a mountain of moss-covered stone towering above them. A golem, easily twelve feet of animated rock stared out of the settling debris, seemingly fixated on Emily. Somewhere in the back of her mind, a bookish voice began to rattle off what she knew of these creatures. They were mindless and emotionless, seeking only to follow the commands of their creator. As this one had been summoned by a destructive rune, it would single-mindedly seek to destroy.

Golems were also known to be highly resistant to magic.

_Perfect_.

The creature took a lumbering step toward Emily, moving much more quickly than she would've thought possible. Its enormous foot slammed against the ground with a rumbling, crunching sound that echoed as the cavern floor shook, nearly causing her to fall.

Without thinking, she shouted a stunning spell which slammed into the creature with absolutely no effect.

"It doesn't have a mind to stun, you brainless imbecile!" Severus shouted from across the room, his voice echoing angrily from the walls as he sent an explosive spell that had the hall thundering from the impact. Whether it affected the giant at all remained to be seen as Emily was completely preoccupied trying to escape.

"Damn it, Sev," she shouted back, diving behind a stalagmite for cover as the golem lumbered after her. "I'm _quite_ open to suggestion!" For a moment, there was silence, then a massive fist collided with her makeshift shelter, and a shower of stone rained down on her head, the stone protrusion reduced to rubble in an instant. The realization that she was screaming didn't hit until she inhaled a lungful of dust and debris, and as she rolled gracelessly for the far wall, she choked until she gagged. There was no time to recover, though, as the massive creature took another swing, this time missing her by only a few feet. For an instant of sick curiosity, she glanced at the last place she had occupied, and nearly retched at the gaping hole in the stone.

She was up and running again in a moment, the creature close on her heels as Severus hurled a barrage of spells, any one of which would have blown a human to pieces. "Any time, Sev!" she yelled, casting a warding charm that saved her from a blow that would've felled a hill giant. Unfortunately, the single strike destroyed the charm, and she was quickly running out of the energy required to cast another.

"It's too solid," Severus shouted back. "We need to weaken it."

Had she the time, she would've laughed aloud.

Of _course_ they needed to weaken it! And, here she was dodging and running like a common muggle. When exactly had she forgotten how to be a witch?

"I think I can handle that," she managed to pant loudly enough for her collaborator to hear. "Can you hold it still?"

In true Snape form, he allowed his actions to answer on his behalf.

"Immobulus!" The power and certainty of his voice stopped her as effectively as it had the giant, and she looked on him with awe. For a moment, he concentrated on holding the monster, his back rigid, wand outstretched, and face as stony and impassive as his victim.

He was beautiful, and when this disaster was finally cleared away, he was hers... at long last; a reason to fight if there ever was one. For a moment she forgot how to breathe.

"Do you intend to be of any use at all today, Miss Grey?" His caustic tone jerked her from reverie into action.

Taking a cue from him, she saved her breath and went to work. Making a quick dash to the golem, trying desperately to avoid thinking what would happen if Severus failed to hold him long enough, she knelt at his feet, drew her dagger, and placed a wicked cutting charm on the blade. Then, raising the dagger high above her head, she plunged it into the foot of the monster. To her great delight, it slid in like a hot knife through butter, and she began to carve a weakening rune, chanting as she worked, encouraging the magic to finish its task quickly.

What felt like a century later, she lifted her blade and watched with great pride as the beginnings of a series of cracks spread from the rune up the creature's leg. It proved to be a moment she couldn't spare.

She was vaguely aware of Severus shouting her name as he lost control of the golem, but most of her attention was riveted on the massive foot which seemed to rise in slow motion. The warding spell had barely enough time to leave her lips when it collided with her. There was a glorious feeling of flying, then an explosion of pain as her body hit the stairs.

Somewhere, far in the distance, Severus was shouting spell after spell, some of them she recognized, some of them she didn't. But, she knew a disillusionment charm when she felt one, and silently thanked him as the creature stopped, confused by its disappearing target, then apparently turned on him. "Conglacio!" Snape shouted. It was an odd spell to cast, that was certain, but the tone of his voice spoke volumes and was all she required to know that he'd prevailed at last.

Somehow, she managed to raise her head in time to see a sheet of ice form under their adversary's feet. Its next step sent it sliding to the ground, huge legs splitting apart until the strain pulled them from its body, fracturing it like a hatching egg until it fell to its side with a resounding crash and crumbled, at last, to rubble.

Emily was on her feet, shouting acclamations to the rapidly-approaching potions master before she realized she'd even moved.

"Sev, that was brilliant!" she gushed, throwing her arms around him with just a slight wince of pain. "I'm so proud of you!"

He pulled away sharply. "Are you injured?"

"I don't think so," she panted. "I cast the ward just in time."

He nodded, clearly relieved. "I feared you were dead."

"Oh, please," she laughed. "I'm harder to kill than a cockroach."

Severus made for the rune, grasping her sleeve and pulling her behind him.

"What's the rush?" she protested, trying to pull away.

"I merely wish to finish this task and get out of here," he muttered. "That was far too close for..."

He glanced at her and she back at him, obviously hoping that she hadn't heard the familiar snap of cracking stone, that he'd imagined it, but her panicked face evidenced that she'd heard it too, and together they drew their gazes to the floor where the crack had severed and was slowly creeping along a second path toward the edge of the rune, obviously headed for the same place it had before, where there was now a yawning hole in the cavern wall.

"You specifically said..." Severus began angrily, a hint of panic growing in his voice.

"Oh, no you don't," she interrupted, already on her knees before the runic circle, dagger drawn. "I told you I wasn't sure. Now, keep that damn thing away from me while I work on this."

A moment later another explosion was heard as a second golem broke away from the wall. Severus cast a ward this time, hoping that it would fare better than Emily's had. He hadn't long to wonder as the boulder that served as the golem's hand smashed into the magical barrier and shook the earth beneath his feet.

It wasn't bad, actually, not as powerful as the tornado. Still, he knew he couldn't keep this up indefinitely. Their salvation lay in Emily's completing her task quickly. He risked a glance over his shoulder to see her working in earnest. The Draught of Destruction was nowhere in sight. She'd apparently decided that the use of her own magic would be much more efficient, and was likely correct. As powerful as their combined gifts were, pouring a potion into each runic carving would waste time they simply didn't have.

"Hey, Sev!" Emily called out in an inappropriately jolly tone.

He glanced over his shoulder once more to see her laughing merrily as she pointed up at the railing monster. "If the ward fails, just aim for that thing. That's got to hurt!"

He followed her pointing finger to a gigantic quartz protrusion that was, admittedly, in just the right place to be mistaken for a renowned member of the male anatomy.

Severus was not amused.

"Emily, if you don't get back to work..."

"Alright, alright!"

For a few moments more she worked in silence as the golem struck the ward with a mind-numbingly regular cadence of thunderous blows. He hadn't counted on the golem's single-mindedness which was rapidly wearing him down. Soon, the ward began to shiver under the consistent blows, and he knew they were in trouble. Emily's shouted request for him to not damage the quartz phallus as it would make a wonderful trophy for her cell did nothing to lighten his mood.

"Emily, hurry!" he shouted back, trying to impress upon her the severity of the situation with his tone.

He was sure she'd begun a biting retort, but her words were lost in the violent blast as the ward finally gave way to a particularly violent blow and the stone fist slammed into the earth, spraying chunks of earth and rock into the air like a geyser. In a single motion, he disillusioned Emily and dove for the wall opposite, drawing the murderous creature with him. Taking a cue from Emily, he began to hit the creature with a barrage of weakening spells, darting through the rubble of its forebear, using the larger chunks of stone as cover.

Crouching behind the downed golem's head, he glanced up to see the creature stopped, staring stupidly about, having lost sight of its prey. The colossal stalactite above its head was too sweet an opportunity to pass up. Gathering his strength, he sent a vicious breaking charm to the base of the hanging protrusion and down it fell, crashing into the golem with a thunderous boom. Vaguely he heard Emily cry out at the sound. He willed her to be silent and concentrate on her work. When the dust cleared a moment later, the monster was missing an arm.

Severus at once cursed and blessed his luck, before hitting it with another weakening charm. If he could manage to trip this one as he had the last, it would very possibly break apart; but, without being certain, he was hesitant to try. The golem surged forward, then, with speed and agility it shouldn't have possessed and caught Severus up in its crushing grip, lifting him into the air with dizzying swiftness.

Another moment in the creature's grasp and he faced the grizzly prospect of being crushed like a grape. With the breath remaining in his lungs, he brought his wand to bear, wheezed a disarming spell, and was thrown by his own magic through the tip of a stalagmite, tearing a neat hole in his side, and fell to the ground several feet below. It was his will alone, for there was no strength left in his body, that brought him staggering to his feet an instant later.

Unfazed by it all, the golem was still advancing.

There was no help for it, now. He'd have to hope that his weakening spells had been as effective as Emily's rune. Lowering his wand to ground, he covered the earth beneath his enemy's feet with a thick sheet of ice, and hoped.

"Done!" came the feminine cry from the runic circle on the other side.

Both golem and potions master stopped and turned in the direction of her voice. An instant later, almost comically, the creature's feet were taken from beneath him by the rapidly-melting ice and he fell to the floor with a deafening crash which shook both Emily and Severus from their feet once more.

The cadence of running feet heralded Emily's arrival, and Severus smiled once, softly into her panicked face before falling beneath the sweet, dark blanket of oblivion.


	13. Chapter Thirteen: A Faithful Nursemaid

****

Chapter Thirteen: A Faithful Nursemaid

Emily couldn't sit still, the glaring lights, the constant announcements filling the air, the white robes rushing back and forth. At twelve years old, it was her first visit to the hospital, and would have been terribly exciting but for the reason they'd come.

"Merlin's beard, Emily, sit down," her brother gently chided, patting the bench beside him in invitation. Fighting the urge to bolt down the hall, she flopped into the seat, still twirling her wand between fingers that would not stop moving.

"You alright?" he asked kindly.

She shook her head briefly, wide eyes still staring down the hall in the direction they'd taken Severus.

"He'll be fine, Em," he assured her. "The Snapes are a hearty lot, stronger than they have a right to be."

"A grown man beating up a twelve-year-old boy, especially one as small as Sev, is hardly what I'd call strong," she snapped.

Eric's tone remained quiet and impassive, taking no offense at her ire. "That's not what I meant, Em."

She blinked, then faced him as though she'd just noticed his presence. A small sigh preceded an even smaller smile as she gave his knee a light pat.

"I know you didn't. I'm sorry." Green eyes immediately shifted back down the hall and she was up pacing the floor again before she could stop herself.

It wasn't the first time, despite her father's stern warnings, that the elder Snape had beaten his child, but it was the first time that his injuries had required medical attention. Had they not shown up at Snape Manor unexpectedly to return a textbook, Severus may have died under his father's wrath. Instead, Lord Grey pulled the inebriated man off of his son, knocked him out cold with a stunning spell and rushed Severus to St. Mungo's where they had been awaiting news for the past three hours.

At last, her father appeared in the hallway, closing the door softly behind him. Despite his lengthy stride, she met him halfway, hating to see the deepened lines on his face, the grave light in his usually peaceful eyes.

"Father?"

"He's alright, Emily," he said softly, drawing a long-kept breath from her lungs with a whoosh of air.

"May I..."

"Go on in," he instructed with a sad smile. "But, be very quiet, and try to not be frightened. The nurses haven't healed the superficial wounds, as yet, so he looks much worse than he is."

Setting her jaw firmly, she slipped past her father and through the door.

It was indeed a shock to see him like this, his face still torn and bruised, the purple blotches swollen beyond recognition in some places. Her heart immediately began to race as much with concern for her friend as with fury at his father for hurting him. The most frightening aspect of all was the look in his eyes. He stared not at the ceiling, but beyond it, his eyes hollow and glassy. She hesitated not a moment, though, before she was at his side, her fingers wrapped tightly around his. The hand trembled slightly, a sure sign that the bones there had recently been healed. Mab's heart, his father had actually broken his wand hand. **Bastard**!

"Sev?"

He didn't respond, merely turned his head to look at the opposite wall.

"Oh, no, Sev," she said in a pleading whisper. "Don't do that. I'm missing a perfectly good Quidditch match to be here with you."

Colorless lips twitched in what she was certain was his customary smirk.

"Ah ha!" she whispered triumphantly. "I saw that. Can't pretend I'm not here, now."

With a pitiful sigh, he turned to face her. Now she could see that his right eye was almost completely swollen shut, and his bottom lip split down the center. She swallowed the tears that would have only upset him, and held up a handful of papers.

"I brought the results from finals."

At last, a look of interest crossed his face. She chuckled despite herself. Had Severus been lying on his deathbed, he would've wanted to see his test scores. She read off his results in an almost jealous tone. Not only had he passed almost every subject with a perfect grade, he had gotten extra credit in most. She would never have the aptitude for taking life seriously enough to make those kinds of grades. When she lay the list aside, he looked, if not happy, at least satisfied.

"You failed to mention one class," he rasped.

At the sound of his voice, she immediately released his hand and cast about for a pitcher of water.

"Are you thirsty?" she asked anxiously.

He nodded mutely, and again the tears sprang to her eyes. Poor sweet Severus! Seeing him like this was almost unbearable.

Soon, she had managed to adjust his bed into a more upright position and held a glass of cold water to his ruined lips. He drank gratefully as she joked about being his faithful nursemaid, trying to lighten the air, knowing that it humiliated him to be so dependent.

"I didn't pass flying lessons, did I?" he whispered, the voice much more like his own, now.

"Actually, you did... but only just," she answered honestly.

He scowled, then grimaced at the pain it caused, then tried to relax his features. They sat for a long while in tranquil silence, each comforted by the presence of the other. Finally, Severus spoke.

"They have much more healing to do. I'll be stuck here for a few days."

He didn't need to elaborate. She knew that he would become incredibly bored stuck in a hospital bed with nothing to do. True that Emily would only leave his side when her father dragged her away, but even she ran out of things to talk about on occasion.

"I'll have father bring your books. Be right back."

Lord Grey wasn't far way, just down the hall, talking with two exhausted-looking mediwitches. Patiently, she waited as they spoke, partially out of respect, but mostly to catch any news that they wouldn't otherwise give a child.

"Lord Snape will be questioned by the Wizengamot tomorrow," the shorter witch said bitterly, clearly struggling to maintain her professionalism, "though the sentence will no doubt be the lightest they can give. Bloody politicians are so dazzled by the shine of his gold that they refuse to see justice done. It's absolutely revolting!"

Her father's face was hard, much harder than she was accustomed to seeing it, and it frightened her. This, then, must be the terrible face that his associates at the Ministry referred to, the reason so many dark wizards feared him at first sight. "I shall be paying a visit to Snape tomorrow morning. He may escape official justice, but that boy has been my daughter's dearest friend since before they could walk, and I'll be damned if..." His roving gaze caught sight of his daughter, then, trying to remain unobtrusively hidden behind the nearest mediwitch. He dismissed his audience with a curt nod and turned to his child with a sudden, soft smile.

"Are you alright, precious?"

She was greatly relieved to see that his face had returned to the kind visage she knew and loved. "Yes, father," she answered respectfully, "but Severus needs his books. Can you possibly go the Manor, now, instead of tomorrow? Please?"

He considered her for just a moment before responding. "I had intended on visiting after my anger had settled a bit, but how could I resist such a sweet request and such beautiful eyes?" He cupped her chin in his hand and smiled down at her. "So like your mother you are," he mused softly, his eyes suddenly far away. In a moment he had returned his attentions to her. "I shall leave immediately."

She threw her arms around his middle. "Thank you, father. He'll be much more himself with a book in his hand."

"And with you at his side, Lady Grey," he returned with a gentle smile. "I suppose you'll wish to stay with him tonight?"

"Yes, father, if you don't mind."

"I don't mind at all, my dear. I shall return shortly to collect your brother and make a few arrangements for your comfort. He drew a small bag of coins from his pocket and passed them into her hand. "Please eat something while I'm gone, and make sure that Eric does, as well. Alright?"

She nodded enthusiastically.

"That's my girl."

With that, he promptly vanished, leaving her alone in the stark white hall.

She returned to her friend's side immediately, but someone was already in her place, holding tightly to a sleeping Severus' hand, narrow shoulders shaking with sobs. Emily closed the door softly behind her as her friend's hand was brought to the intruder lips. He turned with a guilty start at the sound, wiping away bitter tears as he faced her. Emily inhaled deeply - a sharp, shocked breath.

"Eric?"

* * *

It was the first time she'd seen Severus really and truly hurt, but many incidents followed by way of both his father and, later in life, his illustrious career with the Death Eaters. Still, kneeling over his bloody body, her heart sank into her stomach as she cast a pathetically weak healing spell, targeting the rip in his side. It partially sealed itself, only moderately stemming the flow of blood, and she allowed herself a moment of quiet despair, not knowing what else to do.

A few shuddering breaths calmed her, and she was able to levitate his unconscious form up the stairs, through the castle, and to his chambers where she settled him into his own bed and stripped his clothing with a flick of her wand. Trying to concentrate only on his injuries, she busied herself casting a feeble pain-killing charm, then cleansing the dirt from the myriad of cuts and the one barely-closed hole in his side.

She was just pressing a clean cloth to the wound when a cold hand shot out and grabbed her wrist.

"Kindly desist doing that, Emily," Severus hissed sharply, "before I hex you into next year."

She couldn't help but laugh. "Oh, thank Merlin, you're awake! I have no idea how to tend to this. I was just about to summon a mediwizard."

"No!" he snapped. "You know I hate to be poked and prodded by perfect strangers."

"Yeah, I know," she conceded, pulling his hand from her wrist with considerable effort. "Which is the only reason I didn't summon one immediately."

He nodded once, closing his eyes against the light. "Bloody fortunate you didn't."

Quickly, she dimmed the window and the torches, just as he'd done for her that morning.

"What should I do, Sev?"

"You should get us both home," he said simply.

"To your house in Hogsmeade, you mean?"

He narrowed his eyes. "No. To the French Riviera. I'd like a sip of champagne before I bleed to death," he muttered darkly. "Of course, to my house," he snapped. "Where did you suppose?"

She held up her hands defensively. "Alright, alright. Don't get your robes in a bunch. Just give me a few minutes to..."

"Liri!" he called sharply.

The little elf appeared at his side in an instant.

"Help this poor, pathetically ineffective excuse for a witch to gather our things," he ordered crossly. "We are going home for a few days."

"Yes, Master," was the elf's short reply before vanishing again.

"Look, Severus, I know you're injured, but that's no license for being nasty."

"Do recall that I warned you I'd be cross if you were wrong," he answered with a barely-perceptible smirk.

She rolled her eyes, knowing that he was just blowing off steam, using his injuries as a good excuse to snarl at anyone who crossed his path. "Well, you're not going to further my desire to come to your bed with _that_ tone, Sevikins."

An acid look which would have, no doubt, preceded a wicked tongue lashing was cut off by the arrival of his house elf who immediately began snapping traveling cases from the closet and filling them with the necessities of home. In no time at all, they were packed.

* * *

When Severus was safely tucked into his own bed and his wound pulled together with his own magic, he began to pass orders to his house elf to bring up certain strengthening potions from his lab, and organized them at his bedside to be taken over the next few days. Emily, he had dictate a letter to Dumbledore, detailing the success of their second task and indicating that he had received a few negligible wounds and would require a small amount of rest before he was able to resume their work.

When the letter was finished, Emily rolled and sealed it, and Severus warded it with a venomous curse for prying eyes.

"Negligible wounds?" she asked as the letter flew away on the foot of a resident owl.

He huffed and settled further under the blanket. She tucked it under his chin with a small smile.

"Severus, this is bad," she said seriously. "Are you sure these potions will be enough..."

"My potions are a damn sight better than any mediwitch would have access to, Lady Grey." She flinched instinctively at his tone, and his next words were more gentle. "I am quite certain that we are capable of piecing me back together. I've done so often enough on my own." He reached out and took her hand, bringing it to his lips for a gentle kiss. "And with a such a lovely nurse, I'm certain to heal all the faster."

She could feel the blush rising to her cheeks and was immediately ashamed of her sudden shyness. Leaning down, she brushed her lips across his forehead, then covered his mouth with a gentle kiss. "I'm going to go have a bath, alright? Just send Liri if you need me." He nodded, then closed his eyes with a great sigh. A gentle snore followed her out of the room.


	14. Chapter Fourteen: A Midsummer's Nightmar...

****

Chapter Fourteen: A Midsummer's Nightmare

"What's going on out there?" Emily asked, peeking out the window into the cloudless afternoon. "There are bonfires all over the place." Before Severus could answer, she spoke again. "Wait a minute. What day is this?"

"Midsummer," Severus answered quietly, moaning lightly as he slid back to sit a bit taller in the bed. "Hogsmeade is having its Solstice Celebration, no doubt."

"Oh, Merlin, I miss Solstice in Hogsmeade!" She turned from the window to face him with a merry spark of excitement in her eyes. "Do you remember? Father used to take us there every year for the sunrise ritual."

The corners of his mouth twitched as he watched her bounce on her toes with barely-bridled enthusiasm.

"I do remember," he answered.

"And there were jugglers and acrobats and gypsies and bonfires," she continued happily.

"It was very exciting, yes," he answered stonily. "You're not going."

"What?" She opened her eyes wide in feigned shock. "I wasn't going to ask to go. Although..." She slinked across the room to slide into bed beside him, eyeing him lasciviously, "if I _were_ going to ask to go, I would offer a fair exchange for your generosity."

"I'm certain you would," he answered with the tiniest hint of a leer, accepting her slightly-open mouth as invitation to cover it with his own; and she welcomed it, reveling in the taste of him for as long he would allow it. When he pulled away, it was with a slightly quickened pulse and a cruel smile. "But you're still not going."

She sat back with a pronounced pout. "You never let me do anything fun."

"I let you fight a stone golem less than a day ago, and we were almost killed," he returned casually. "Surely that couldn't have been less fun than the tornado that nearly claimed our lives."

"No, no. That was definitely fun," she said, not to be outmaneuvered, "but I was thinking more along the lines of having a few drinks, dancing with some good-looking wizards..."

"Oh, yes, by all means," he said dryly, "become inebriated in what is certain to be a playground for Death Eaters. That's worthy competition for your plan to join them in the first place."

She scowled at his infuriatingly calm face. "Touché."

He nodded once, blinking heavily as he fought sleep, then settled himself under the blanket. "In all seriousness, Emily. Do not even put your nose outside the door tonight. As most of the revelers are masked, Hogsmeade will be crawling with Voldemort's elite, looking for targets or simple sport. If they discovered you, it would prove disastrous."

She leaned over and kissed him lightly. "I promise, Sev."

He smiled gently. "We can go next year. Together. Would you like that?"

"Very much."

"As would I," he tried to stifle a yawn and failed. "The vendors sell the most fascinating potions from all over..." His eyes closed and he dropped off, a peaceful smile still lightening his usually somber features.

Emily smoothed the hair from his face and contemplated their predicament for a moment. He was right, of course. If the Death Eaters found out about her, if Voldemort discovered that Severus had been withholding information, particularly about one of his own, he could kiss the mortal plane goodbye. At some point, though, he would be found out. That was inevitable.

_Then what_?

Staring down at the tranquil face of her soon-to-be lover, she wondered if he had a plan for that inevitability, then rolled her eyes at the absurdity of the question. Of _course_ he had a plan! Severus Snape always had a plan, and a few backups to compliment it. It likely hinged on telling the Dark Lord himself, though, rather than having him hear the news of her freedom from a second party who would certainly color the facts for their own benefit... or simply present her head as a trophy.

That was the way of the Death Eaters. Only the ruthless survived... and she had loved playing their game - the danger, the difficulty, the complex web of alliance and betrayal within the hierarchy of the circle. It was addictive. She had been good at it, and, at the time, had hated to leave. Not that anyone could ever know that. Truth be told, she had resented her brother for trusting her enough to make Voldemort's plan a viable option, and had, in moments of weakness, blamed him entirely for not only his own death, but also her forced departure from the Dark Lord's circle. Given time, she might've outranked Severus... which had been her ultimate goal to begin with.

_And, look how that turned out_, she chided herself pitilessly. _Severus is right. You're the last one who should be in charge of making plans_.

Sighing deeply, she returned to the library to the comfy chair she'd claimed as her own and tried to tune out the noise of the celebration just over the meadow.

* * *

Three hours later, Severus was still asleep, and Emily was entertaining hopes of his staying that way. His potions were doing wonders for his injuries, and soon he would be as sound as he'd ever been. But presently he was exhausted, his body concentrating all of its energy on healing the wounds and replenishing lost blood.

With the potions master out like a candle and night rapidly approaching, a heavy silence fell over the house. The music could be heard louder than ever and a mercilessly cheerful melody, an infectious rhythm, and mounting magical energy called to her from across the meadow.

Shortly before sunset, she closed her book with an irritated sigh, and submitted to its power.

As quick and silent as a mouse, she tiptoed down to the kitchens to find Liri. He was, of course, hard at work, overseeing the chopping of vegetables by a host of independently-moving kitchen knives.

"Liri?"

The tiny elf started, then turned and bowed low, his ears twitching with joy as they always did when she visited.

"Liri is honored by your presence, Madam."

"And, I'm always glad to see you."

"Is Madam needing something? Liri is honored to provide for her."

She smiled kindly. "I know you are, and I appreciate it." Crouching down, she motioned the little creature forward. "I need a favor, Liri."

"Liri is most honored to be sought out by the master's lady for assistance."

Emily paused at the phrase 'the master's lady,' then smiled broadly. Oh, yes. She could certainly get used to that.

"That's good because this is really important." The little elf's eyes grew even larger in anticipation. "I have to nip out for a little while, and I need for you to keep an eye on Severus for me." She presented the back of her left hand where a symbol was carved very faintly into the skin. "This is a summoning rune. If you'll allow me, I'll inscribe another onto your hand, then you can summon me if I'm needed. Okay?"

Liri nodded enthusiastically. "Liri would be most honored to bear the lady's mark."

She chuckled lightly. "That's my little elfling. Now, hold still. This might sting."

That done, she slipped out and apparated to the edge of town where bonfires by the dozen, flickering merrily in the fading sunlight, painted the town with dancing partners of shadow and light. Of course there were other dancers there as well; humans and spirits and vampires, some costumed, some barely clothed at all, twirling and twisting around the fires to a beat so deep that it echoed in the bones. Gods! All these years away and the Solstice celebration had not changed a bit. Then again, according to popular legend, it had not changed in many centuries.

All around, and most importantly, directly beside her, were vendors hawking masks and slinky robes. Not two feet away, a blood red, heavily-beaded costume with a matching, feathered mask caught her eye, and she hastened to formulate a plan for acquiring it. There were two vendors working the stall, both fairly occupied with customers, and for some reason the robes which, in her opinion, should have been featured grandly were folded casually in a corner and almost completely ignored. Almost, but not entirely, not enough for a clean bit of larceny.

Quickly, she cast a disillusionment charm which would not conceal her completely, but would make her less noticeable, especially with all of this traffic. Speaking of which, she couldn't have asked for a sweeter distraction than the scantily-clad dancer who had completely caught the attention of the two middle-aged wizards running the stall. Emily grinned wickedly.

_Suckers_.

Almost shivering with nerves (as it had been years since she'd done anything like this) she moved in a crouch to the side of the stall, where she waited a moment, thanking the Fates for her much smaller proportions as the vendors turned to observe a group of wizards pointed out by their new customer. Quickly enough, they turned back and she snatched the robes and mask from the counter, swiftly moving another red mask to cover the newly-created space. After a second's deliberation, she also took a small coin bag from the bottom shelf, then she was gone.

By the time she'd managed to find a shadow behind a cafe, slip out of her old robes, and wriggle into the new ones, the sun had set completely, and the celebration had begun to build a darker, more mystical energy.

It was obvious, after she'd actually managed to get into the mask and robes and conjure a mirror, why they'd been shunted to the side. They were obviously fitted for a much younger witch, an adolescent, perhaps, who hadn't begun to develop any of the typical womanly curves, but the evening celebration of Solstice was off limits to underage witches and wizards, hence their lack of prominence within the stall. Unfortunately, the robes fit like a second skin, and she was no great shakes at magical alterations. _Damn Severus' gift with potions! A week ago, these would've been falling off of me_, she thought bitterly. _First time I've ever been pissed to find I have breasts and hips_, she thought, leaving the shadows to join the throng in the street.

Once among the crowd it was difficult to decide what to do first. Around the fires, people were dancing - some on their own, but mostly in couples. It was unlikely she'd find much amusement there. Instead she perused the vendors which lined the streets, remembering to steer clear of the one she'd "visited" previously. There were only a few sickles and galleons in the little velvet bag she'd swiped. Likely, it was only there for making change, but it was more than enough to procure a double shot of firewhiskey which she tossed back at once. In only a few minutes, the lights were brighter, the entertainers funnier, and her worries much less cumbersome than they were when she arrived. Still, she was a bit more inebriated than she'd planned to be. Shaking her head a bit in the hopes of clearing it, she swore to never, ever again swallow a double shot after a sixteen-year alcohol purge.

For a long while she wandered about the vendors, peering in at fascinating wares and wishing they weren't so heavily warded before finally throwing her shyness to the wind and sliding into a circle of dancers at the edge of town. Several wizards caught her up and twirled her in their arms as the music played, her costume no doubt bringing about most of the attention. But, she cared nothing for the reason. Only the pounding drumbeat and her bare feet skimming over the grass and the laughter of her fleeting suitors mattered anymore.

After the merry dance ended, the unseen band struck up another tune, a sensual, serpentine drumbeat with a melody that was primitive at best. It was a dance for couples who were closer than she would ever be to any of these men, but as she slipped out of the firelight, a strong arm encircled her waist, bringing with it the distinctive smell of wealth and whiskey, an intoxicating combination.

"Leaving so soon?" a cultured voice whispered in her ear, pulling her close against a tall, tight body. "I've been watching you for some time, waiting for an opportunity to have the pleasure." He turned her then, effortlessly, and gazed down into her face, his Herne mask glittering in the flickering light. "Would you deny me that?"

Emily blinked hard, trying to focus. The eyes and voice were distinctly familiar, and that couldn't be good. She should leave, but her head was clouded and she was sick of playing everything so safe. This man was attractive, obviously dangerous, and vastly more interesting than an unconscious potions master.

_To Hell with it_.

"Your pleasure is mine, Mr....?"

He merely gave a secretive smile and swept her back to the fire, leading her into the slithering, sensual dance with practiced ease. It was awkward at first, the steps unfamiliar, but he was a masterful lead and soon he had her hips melded to his, twisting and writhing in a dance that was closer to fornication than celebration. Indeed his mouth spent more time mating with hers than it did speaking or holding its silence. Soon, though, her violent blush faded along with her inhibitions as he led her down the path her instincts wished to go, whispering hinted promises of pleasure in her ear.

When the music ended at last, she allowed him to sweep her away to a shadowed shop front with a whisper of "Don't move, little one," while he left to procure drinks for them both. He returned swiftly with two glasses of dark brandy and a wicked smile.

"Oh, no," she protested weakly. "I've really had too much."

"On a night of celebration?" he argued lightly, leaning in close, effectively pinning her to the wall. "Never. These are dark times, Madam," he added soberly, a hint of danger in his voice that shot through her like lightning. "Best you enjoy the fun while it lasts."

She nodded mutely, wholly amazed by her own acquiescence as she swallowed the bitter liquid with a long, slow pull. She had no sooner lowered the glass than the world went watery and spun around her, and before she could utter a protest he had pulled her stumbling form behind the building into the shadows.

Instinctively, she opened her mouth to cry out, but he silenced her with a long black wand at her throat. "Not at all a wise course of action, precious," he said in a voice as cold as ice and suddenly utterly unmistakable.

Her heart began to flutter wildly as three other figures materialized suddenly from the shadows behind him, shrouded in black and wearing hauntingly-familiar masks that had nothing to do with the celebration. She was suddenly shaking with fear and wondering, frantically, where her breath had gone.

"Now, don't look at me like that," he chided. "You should never drink anything given you by a strange wizard." Two of his companions chuckled darkly as they slipped behind her and took her arms in an inflexible hold. "Shame on you, precious," he continued. "A grown woman should know better."

He tilted her head with a tap of his finger on her chin, and looked deeply into her eyes. "Whatever happens to you tonight is your own fault. Trust is a liability one can ill afford. A pity you won't live long enough to utilize the lesson."

Suddenly she was moving, struggling as best she could in her severely drugged state within the arms of her captors. They held her with hardly any effort, laughing openly at her attempts. "Ah yes, love," he encouraged, freezing her actions in an instant. "Do fight. It makes the conquest that much sweeter."

"Is she pure?" the taller wizard to his left asked in a rough voice.

"Oh, she's as pure as new-fallen snow," he assured them. "An untainted vessel just waiting to be defiled. Isn't that right, sweet?" She glared furiously, unable to do much else. "Oh, don't tell me you've changed your mind. Five minutes ago, you were imagining all manner of perversion." The men holding her laughed again. "Where a virgin came upon such filthy ideas is quite beyond me, but no need to worry. I won't allow these ruffians to take what you've _faithfully_ kept for so many years." He kissed her again, roughly, then bit her bottom lip hard enough to draw blood. She stilled completely when he began to clean the wound with a long, slow lick, groaning into her mouth at the taste of her blood. "_That_ is mine," he continued wrathfully.

"Fuck you, Lucius," she spat.

His face fell at once.

"Now, you're catching on," he whispered, closing the distance with a single step. She tried again to resist, but the other Death Eaters held her in a vice, and her limbs felt suspiciously like melted wax. "But you appear to have the advantage, and that is wholly unacceptable."

In one motion, he removed his mask and reached for hers. She turned her face away with a whimper of protest, but he caught her chin in a bruising grip, violently wrenching her gaze back to his. With a carefully deliberate motion, he peeled her mask away and stared down into her face with a curious expression.

After a moment, she saw with rising horror, the comprehension dawn in his eyes, his face transforming before her eyes into a mask of pure evil.

"Well, well, well," he whispered, obviously delighted at his discovery, "Emily Grey. This _is_ a surprise."

* * *

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Author's note:

Hi, all! First, let me thank those of you who reviewed the chapters I recently posted. I really appreciated your kind words. After all, I'd paid an extra $150.00 to get my computer back quickly so that I could keep writing. For those of you who usually do review and didn't, I am forced to ask: Did the last five chapters really suck that badly??!! I usually get more feedback on a single chapter than I did on those five. Please, _please_ let me know what I'm doing wrong here. Is it boring? Because, things are about to get (I hope) much more interesting. Has my writing style deteriorated? Does the story just suck? A little response, please? I know it's pathetic, but when I don't get reviews, I begin to second guess myself. I lose confidence, and writing becomes much more of a chore than a joy. I want you guys to be happy, because your happiness (as far as the story is concerned) is mine. I'm here. Talk to me. Oh! Also, I just realized that I was in such a hurry to post the update after my absence that I completely neglected to answer the reviews for chapter eight. I'm really sorry about that. I'm a doodie-head. I will remedy that oversight here.

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Teenage Zombie: You will definitely have to wait, and I'm glad that you don't mind. I, like you, don't really enjoy it when a love scene is rushed. Sex scenes? Yes. No problem. Two people meet. The attraction is there. I see no reason to avoid consummating physical attraction. After all, that's exactly what happened in my last story. But, love is a different matter. Thank you so much for the review! I appreciate you.

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Captain Oblivious: "Together-ish?" How cute is that description? I love it! Thanks for approving of the time it took. As this is love and not lust, I didn't want to rush things as I felt licensed to do in the Alex stories. I seriously feared that I would bore my readers with the wait, but it would seem that some approve. Goody! (Hops up and down and claps hands). As for your chapter eight review, again, thank you. I hope that the history does indeed flesh this story out a bit. Bless you for commenting on the banter, as well. I am ridiculously particular about the dialogue I write and hearing that someone enjoys it is music to my ears... as pleasant as Sarah Brightman, I swear!

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Quietude: What can I say about a reviewer so precious that he/she would review all five chapters individually? I am overwhelmed with gratitude that you would go to so much trouble and have no idea how to communicate to you how much I appreciated the gesture. I should at least tell you that I was so touched I cried. Not many people reviewed this huge update and I was feeling terribly discouraged when I came home from an extra-long shift at work to find five reviews in my box. Thank you so much! As for the reviews themselves: Ch. 8: If my Severus ever does get sappy, for Merlin's sake, _Please Tell Me_! I despise sap, especially when it's applied to Severus. Your "big, stupid grin" brings a pretty big smile to my face, as well, I assure you. Ch. 9: You're right about my obsession with Knockturn Alley and its shopkeepers. Being a retailer myself, I am always fascinated by unusual stores, and the ones on Knockturn Alley just sound incredible! I suppose the shopkeepers themselves are just my sick way of living out personal fantasies. Isabelle, for example, is _so_ my type, and hey! with the addition of the shop she owns, we automatically have something in common! I became so damned attached to her while writing those chapters that I've seriously begun to put together the story of Isabelle and Snape which takes place over the course of the last few HP books. What do you think? As for my putting a "stupid smile" on your face, I can only say YYYAAAYYY!!! When my readers are smiling (or begging for the resolution of a cliffhanger) I am simply thrilled. Ch. 10: Isn't Snape just a deadly, feral little bastard when he's caught off-guard? That's probably my favorite facet of his character, so I'm glad that you approve. I can see Emily's humiliation at suddenly being the weak, helpless one in a situation that is the complete opposite of what she's accustomed to. Bless you for your compliment on my "Snape speech." I absolutely agonize over his dialogue! It's so important to me that he remain in character, and his manner of speaking is a huge part of that! Ch. 11: Damn! My ignorance rears its ugly head once more! Meekly, twisting her hands in her lap, Escaped asks, "Um, Quietude, what's UST?" Sorry about Snape's self-control, but I can't help it. He's just not the type to say "to hell with the consequences" and leap into bed with his prisoner. It's not his way. We'll all just have to wait. I'm happy that you are so taken with the idea of Severus returning to Voldemort of his own free will. I've never seen him as the type of person to allow anyone to make a decision like that for him. He seems to me to be much more the type to take charge of his role in the war. And, I simply cannot see Severus as a noble man. He's too petty and cruel. Damn, I love that about him! Ch.12: Glad you liked the banter. Thanks. Once again, I agonize over the dialogue, so that's always nice to hear! Ch. 13: Ah! I knew some of you would catch that! I'll be building on Eric's character in bits and pieces for rest of the story, so his actions will be explained... eventually. There is no real significance in their knowing one another since early childhood. It is, as you say, simply a matter of pure-blood families associating. There are reasons that the two of them spend so much time together growing up, but I'll fill in those blanks as we go along. I can tell you that it had more to do with the parents than the children. And, to end, Quietude, honey, if I have spoiled you, then I regret nothing. I have decided that you are definitely worth spoiling. Your reviews really, really made my whole month, and made me want to keep writing! Again, I appreciate you. Thanks.

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Sesshomaru's Angel: Thanks for the good word! I appreciate it!

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Queen of the Faeries: Escaped blushes furiously and hides her face. Uh-oh. It would appear that you have discovered the truth. I suppose I do have a lamentable tendency to tease. Should I apologize or giggle? I just don't know. Maybe I'll do both, one right after the other. I'm glad to have my computer back, as well. Thanks for chiming in. I always love to hear from you! As for your chapter eight review (which I forgot to answer because I'm a big doodie-head - see above) I'm happy to hear that you approve of her getting a wand. I thought it would be rather senseless of him to keep risking her life when he could manage to keep the wand a secret from Dumbledore, and convince her to do the same. I like Severus when he's gentle as well... as long as he's never sappy. As I mentioned to Quietude, that's just revolting!

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Elessar Evenstar: Thank you so much for your review of chapter eight! I like the thought of Severus having a lover who is just that, not a romantic suitor or a shudder girlfriend, but a simple bedwarmer. That's just about right for him, I think. I'm so happy to hear that you enjoyed the chapter and are (hopefully) enjoying the story. By the way, I'm glad that you finished your essay and won't get any harsh punishments from your English teacher. Unless he looks like Severus or Lucius and you're into pain. In that case, you might want to start acting up. I know I would! Was that sick? (Blush) Sorry!

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Intel Ewok: Yes. You have the right idea. The runes are deadly, and as powerful as our beloved potions master can be, he's still not strong enough to protect them both. It was only logical to get a wand for her. I actually considered having Severus call for backup, but then I remembered that, in all the books, he was ridiculously independent. When the entire staff left to see about the troll, he went straight to the third floor corridor. He stayed on Quirrell for that entire book without going to anyone else about his suspicions. He's so damn proud that I think it would rankle him to volunteer for a task (especially one which was vied for by one of his arch rivals) and not be strong enough to handle it. I'm not saying he shouldn't have, I'm merely suggesting that, being such a stubborn git, he probably wouldn't. Thank you so much for the review. Sorry I didn't answer it in my last chapters. I'm a poophead.


	15. Chapter Fifteen: A Beginning and an End

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Chapter Fifteen: A Beginning and an End

"Lucius, listen to me" she begged, searching her mind furiously for a plausible explanation.

Casually, he lifted his hand against her words, an old and familiar gesture of command, one it was wise to obey. "Save your explanations for our Master. I'm sure he'll be most interested to hear what you have to say."

He backed up a step, discarding both their masks at his feet and looked around at his associates. "Here endeth our sport for tonight, I'm afraid." There were groans of protest all around, most suggesting that they take her anyway.

"Now, now," he soothed. "There will be time enough for play when our Master has dealt with her. No doubt he will allow us to toy with what little is left."

"Shall we?" He held his hand out in invitation, and she could only stare at it in horror, willing this to be a nightmare. Maybe she'd awaken with Severus struggling for life beneath _her_.

_Sweet Merlin!_

_Severus_!

Part of her hoped she didn't survive this encounter. He'd never forgive her for letting this happen, and she'd seen enough wizards die in the wake of Snape's fury that the thought of death at the hands of Voldemort almost paled in comparison.

Malfoy's face grew more stern by the second, and she knew she'd have to take the hand or risk his wrath. Neither were attractive options. Tentatively she reached out to him, ready for the inevitability of disapparation, but her hand had barely grazed his when the irresistible tug of a summoning spell yanked her from her feet, through the circle of Death Eaters, knocking Lucius aside in the process, and into the arms of a black-cloaked and hooded figure. There was barely time to hear Lucius emit a foul oath of dismay before she was gone.

Apparating while inebriated had already been low on her list of things to try, the possibility of splinching being too much of a risk, but this trip definitely clinched it. As soon as the world stopped spinning, she fell to her knees and was wretchedly ill all over her rescuer's boots.

A familiar voice spat out a cleansing charm, then reached down to haul her roughly to her feet.

"Sseverusss," she managed, not even trying to hide her inebriation. "Thank Merlin you came!"

He pulled his face away in disgust at the smell of her breath, and reached a hand down to whisk her wand from the sheath on her hip and pocket it. When she looked up to voice a protest, she saw eyes that were far too cold in a furious face. Two unsteady steps back and he'd unsheathed his own wand to level it at her heart. A neat flick of his wrist bound her hands behind her back.

"Turn around and walk," he ordered furiously.

She was suddenly very confused. "Sev, what..."

"I have license and incentive to kill you, Miss Grey," he snapped. "Don't for an instant believe that I will not do so. Obey me at once," he ordered. "Inside the house and to your chambers. _Now_."

With a dismayed shake of her head, she did as he commanded, stumbling as best she could up the stone steps, through the door, and up the stairs to her room. The ward vanished with a swift command and she found herself shoved cruelly through the door, where she tripped over her own feet and fell with a bone-jarring crash to her side. Looking up in terror, she recoiled at the sight of a rapidly-approaching figure in black, robes billowing as he came, and was suddenly vastly more afraid than she'd been with Lucius.

"Sev..." was all that she managed before he gagged her with a neat turn of his wrist.

He opened his mouth to speak, then, but thought better of it, almost as if he was afraid of what he might say and instead turned on his heel with a snarl of rage to swoop back through the door which promptly slammed itself in the wake of his fury.

For a long time, she stared at the door, willing him to return, but her exhaustion was such that, even lying bound and gagged on the floor, she soon surrendered to sleep.

* * *

When she awoke, a fire was burning in the hearth, flickering with a sinister light. Moaning, she closed her eyes against the pain in her head. Gods, how much time had passed? However long it had been , she'd been relocated in that time to a chair in front of the fire, her arms and feet bound securely. Blinking rapidly, trying to clear away the fog in her mind, she saw a dark, imposing blur in front of her. Something was shoved against her lips, and she turned her head. She'd learned her lesson about drinking unidentified beverages. 

"Drink it willingly or not, Miss Grey," came Severus' voice, colder than she'd ever heard it. "Either way, you _will_ drink it."

Swallowing the tears that threatened to demean her even more, she parted her lips and allowed him to pour the liquid in. For a moment, she held it in her mouth, savoring the sweet taste, but unwilling to swallow.

"Spit it out and I will torture you within an inch of your life."

There was not a single doubt in her mind that he meant what he said. She swallowed immediately. For a few moments, she simply savored the lessening of pain in her head and limbs, then was starkly aware of an alien sensation in the back of her head, a tingle where there should have been nothing at all. He gave her no time to wonder at it.

"For what reason did you go to Hogsmeade tonight, Miss Grey?" he asked stiffly.

Before she could formulate a delicate answer, her mouth had given him the bald truth that she went because she was bored and wanted to have some fun before she returned to Hogwarts to risk her life again.

Having never experienced it before, she couldn't swear to it, but was otherwise certain that the bastard had given her Veritaserum. She hadn't long to fume.

"How did you acquire the robe and drink?"

"I stole the robe and a bag of money from a vendor," she answered flatly, "then bought the drink from another."

Severus leaned forward, his features a mask of cold fury. "And exactly _what_ were you doing with Lucius Malfoy?"

"Talking."

He ground his teeth, causing a muscle in his jaw to twitch violently.

"How did you come to be with Lucius Malfoy tonight?"

"I danced with him around a bonfire. He was masked. I didn't know who it was. Then, he bought drinks and drugged mine. After I drank it, he pulled me behind a building and held me there at wandpoint."

Upon hearing that she hadn't met with Lucius willingly, he seemed to relax a bit. "Tell me everything that happened after that," he ordered, just a bit more softly than before.

She did, with none of the variations or muted facts that she would've otherwise supplied. And in the end, just as the Veritaserum began to wear off, he sat back, apparently satisfied.

"Will you untie me, now?" she asked meekly.

Sharp, black eyes darted up to stare at her with a look of pure loathing. "No, I will not."

"When can I have my wand back?"

"I've destroyed your wand."

She let out a sound of pure dismay.

"You cannot be trusted, Miss Grey," he said coldly. "I was a fool to ever believe otherwise. From this point forward, you may consider yourself my prisoner, and you will be under constant supervision. You will be allowed access only to the things which you require. You will do _exactly_ as I tell you, no excuses. Do you understand this?"

She nodded mutely, mouth hanging open in disbelief at how quickly things had changed, how much she had lost.

"Sev, please don't do this. I just made a mistake. You can't..."

"I can and will do whatever I please," he snapped. "My name is Severus, not _Sev,_ and you _did not make a mistake_." His eyes changed, then, from furious to hurt in an instant before lowering his tone to a whisper which bit more deeply than his shouting ever had. "You lied to me, Emily... and in doing so, you have likely destroyed everything I have fought, suffered, and killed for in the last _two decades_."

With that, he swept from the room, unbinding her with a muttered charm on the way, and warding the door with a savage curse.

* * *

Severus sat forward in the chair he'd occupied for the past three hours, head hung low, wearily scrubbing his face with hands. He was tired and weak, more so than he'd been in a very, _very_ long time. Given proper rest, he would've been well and truly healed with another night's sleep, but the mental and physical strain of the past few hours had greatly hindered his recovery. 

He sat back with a deep groan, remembering those first few minutes after he woke.

Gods, when he'd discovered her missing, he'd completely panicked, certain that she'd met with foul play. Frantically, he'd checked the house for any sign of forced entry, but the wards were intact, and the easily-detectable residual trace of a single disapparation spell gave him to know at last that she'd left willingly... after promising him she'd stay.

_Damn her! Conniving, selfish, unreliable child_!

And now, three hours later, he was still cursing himself soundly for his own part in the disaster: for being so naive, for acting like a lovesick schoolboy.

_Idiot_!

_Shortsighted, gullible fool_!

Had he gone completely mad?

Whatever had possessed him to believe that she could be trusted?

He should take her straight back to Azkaban at once and explain to Dumbledore why he couldn't complete the assignment. Albus would understand, would likely commend him for his wisdom.

He sighed deeply.

_So, why in Merlin's name am I just sitting here_?

A sudden, violent pounding on the door down the hall jolted him from his introspection and sent him bolting toward the source... Emily's room. Leveling his wand at the source of the sound, he released the ward and the door swung open on his prisoner, grimacing and pressing a white-knuckled fist to her forearm.

"Severus!" she panted, eyes wide and wild, obviously in great pain. "Severus, let me out of here! He's summoning me!"

Somehow, after all his dejection, this struck him as absolutely hilarious, and he answered her pleas with deep, dark laughter. "Oh, certainly," he said with a dying chuckle. "By all means, go. Answer your master's summons." His inappropriately amused face fell, then resolved itself into an glacial sneer. "Do you truly think me that great a fool?"

Emily's eyes widened in shock. "Severus, I am not your enemy! I made a mistake." A menacing, black eyebrow lifted. "Alright, I lied to you," she admitted, hissing from the agony of the Dark Lord's insistent call. "It's nothing I haven't done before. It's nothing I won't do again, and you know it, but I'm truly sorry. If I could take it back, I would. It was impetuous. It was stupid, but I never meant for any harm to come of it. _Please_, Sev. Please forgive me."

Slowly, she released and extended her left arm, palm up, in a gesture of friendship and he flinched, brandishing his wand menacingly.

"Damn it, Sev!" she shouted. "At least give me a chance to repair the damage I've caused. If you don't let me go, he'll kill us both."

"That is possible," he answered quietly.

"I could..."

"You could, yes," he interrupted icily, "but you _will_ not. What you _will_ do is sit down and endure his summons in silence," he said venomously. "Lucius will have put the pieces together before he reported to his master, no doubt, and when you do not answer, I will be summoned in your place. Then we shall see whether you have damned us both, you stupid, willful, arrogant..."

The rest of the verbal assault was cut short by a cry of alarm as she made a desperate lunge for his wand and turned it aside as he released a stunning spell. In the next moment, he'd twisted it from her grip with a dark oath which was interrupted by yet another shout as warm ash she'd been concealing in her other hand was flung into his eyes. Once again, she grabbed for the wand, this time managing to wrench it from his weakening grip, and a cry of "Immobulus!" froze him to the spot.

"Gods, Sev," she panted to his petrified form, suddenly much less apologetic. "I truly am sorry, but I knew you were going to be unreasonable about this. I will not sit on my arse while I could be solving the problem. I have to go to him."

Was that excitement he heard in her voice? It wouldn't surprise him at this point, and it only added to the sharp pain that stabbed at his heart with every foul turn this evening took. Breathing heavily, more from pain than exertion, Emily placed his wand on the table, then turned to go.

"The spell will wear off at some point," she said quietly. "I hope you're feeling more reasonable when..." She paused, then shrugged. "_If_ I come back." Swiftly, she leaned in to cover his lips with hers.

"Goodbye, Sev."

Out on the lawn, Emily took one regretful look back at the house, up at the window of the room where Severus stood like a statue, then fell to her hands and knees, placed her forehead on the ground, (she knew better than to stand before the Dark Lord when he was angry) and disapparated.

* * *

The first thing that registered was the darkness, not surprising as the master had always preferred it, then a rustle of heavy cloth stirred the pressing silence before the voice which had occupied her worst nightmares for nearly two decades addressed her. 

"Emily Grey, my old friend." He drew the words out, long and low, seeming to savor the sound. "Have you forgotten your manners?"

With her heart in her mouth, she lifted her head slightly, steeled her quivering limbs, and crawled forward to kiss the hem of his heavy, black robes.

"Master," she whispered, the trembling of her voice betraying her overwhelming terror.

"Oh, no, Emily. I am not your master," he hissed, circling her with a slow, measured step. "Masters are to be obeyed without question. You did not obey me... You refused my orders... You renounced me before your Death Eater brothers and sisters, and you fled my presence in terror."

"Master, I was weak," she sobbed into the floor. "I was weak, but I saw my error," she added with conviction. "I followed your order and removed my brother from our path, and when the Ministry questioned me, I did not deny you as others have."

His steps brought him in front of her once more, and she felt an immense and illogical relief at not having him behind her.

"And you believe your disobedience to be atoned for by doing as you were commanded to do... in your own time? You believe that I should welcome you back to my family?"

She hesitated a moment, trying to unglue her tongue from the roof of her mouth. "I bow to your wisdom, Master, as always," she managed to whisper, certain that this was the end of her.

"Do you?" he hissed. "My wisdom tells me that you are desperate to save yourself from my wrath, that you kneel out of dread rather than reverence. My wisdom tells me that you are not faithful to me, and I am forced to wonder with whom your allegiance lies."

A long moment passed with only the sound of her labored breathing and the rustling of his robes. "I believe that I know who freed you and for what purpose, but I am curious to know why this news has not yet reached my ears. It would appear that Severus has been keeping secrets... and you, Lady Grey, are going to tell me why."

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Author' note: I am overwhelmed at the response this chapter brought. Your support means the world to me. It keeps me writing when I just don't feel like doing so... though that's fairly rare. But, more than that, it helps me to pin down what works and what doesn't. I'm not certain that I'll ever be a good writer, not sure that the book I'm working on will ever be published, but I want to make my fanfiction readers happy. As I am a reader who is constantly in search of another good fanfic, that's very important to me.

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Teenage Zombie: Wow, thanks! I was really trying to give this chapter a sensual feel. Knowing that I succeeded to some degree thrills me! Ah, Lucius, the ever unpredictable - hope you didn't mind the rescue. Don't worry. He'll be back.

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Captain Oblivious: I can't believe you took a magic waffle iron to my Lucius! After I picked myself up off of the floor and wiped the tears of mirth from my face, I scowled at your review, tried to be angry at your callousness, then started laughing again. Geez, C.O., you should take the show on the road. That was Hilarious! Damn, I needed that! Oh, and I gotta hear that war cry sometime! And, yes. Emily is behaving like... um... well... herself, really. Sorry about that, but Severus warned you. She's brilliant, but she has no horse sense whatsoever. It's a shame, really. I agree with you wholeheartedly about the joy of getting a really good review. There's nothing quite like. Thank you for yours... all of them.

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bxn110: That's right. I simply can't write a story without Lucius. It's against my personal code of ethics. Thank you for the kind word.

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Sesshomaru's Angel: Hey, I know that you've been kind enough to update pretty often because I can now spell 'Sesshomaru' without referring back to your review a thousand times. Good for us! I promise that I'll never abandon a fic as long as someone, anyone is reading it. I've had too many authors do that to me. I'd get heavily involved in a plot, and they'd just rip the rug out from under my feet. I try to treat others the way I like to be treated, so no worries! You have a good instinct for Lucius' basic character, but I hope you find that I try to write him with a bit of depth. Two-dimensional baddies are a pet peeve of mine. As far as Lucius causing laughter... well, I don't write him to be funny, but laughter is almost never a bad thing. So, yuck it up, even if it's at the expense of my character. I don't mind. By the way, just as a side note, maybe it's attraction. I am ridiculously attracted to this girl at work, and every time she talks to me, I am reduced to giggle fits. It's pathetic, I know. I'll never manage to ask her out at this rate! But, that's my theory for your reaction to Lucius, take it or leave it.

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emerald sparrow: Oh, ho! So, you know me well enough to know that I can't resist writing Lucius into the plot. Yes. It's true. He's my dream guy, and he's just so damn fun to write! I am pleased to blushing that you enjoy the way I portray him. Thank you! That means a great deal to me.

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Dianatyne: Oh, you sweetie, you! Sit down, have a cup of tea. Join the circle. I'm proud to have you, and extremely pleased at how jazzed you are over the story. It just tickles me pink when someone likes my work. I will keep writing, and hope that you keep reading. Careful, though! I may just get hooked on your reviews!

**Intel Ewok**: Oh, I'm so glad that we share that in common! In the first book, when I discovered toward the end the very traits we are discussing, I just turned pink with happiness and decided that I was in love. You are going to wear yourself out making excuses for Emily. She is really not a 'nice' girl. I'm sorry. I'm not saying she's irredeemable, just... well.. gradually, you'll get the idea. I can tell you in all honesty that she was/is a real DE, and she did kill her brother, but I can't reveal any more without giving away too much. You know, for some reason I got warm fuzzies when I read that you like her because Severus likes her so much. I can't explain why, but that just thrilled me to no end! Severus should be happy. He deserves to be happy... despite what J.K. (I bow before you, oh, Goddess) thinks. Yes, she is being really stupid in this chapter, but that's just her way. As I reminded Captain Oblivious, she is brilliant on some levels, but really lacks common sense. She's also selfish and arrogant. Again, sorry. If it helps, do remember that she's locked in a tiny cell for sixteen years. As for your not forgiving her, well, I guess you and Severus have that in common. It's understandable, but please don't stop reading. I'd really miss you! Don't quit your job, sweetie. We all have to do our share of the gruntwork. If it were fun, they wouldn't pay us. There - some unsolicited advice from the reasonable old person. Have a muffin and some tea, sweetie, and try to relax.

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Lady Jenilyn: My dear, sweet girl! I'm so charmed that you reviewed all five chapters! That's just the sweetest! Thank you, thank you, thank you! Hugs! Kisses! Muffins and tea! Let me begin by saying that I just updated to AOL 9.0 when I got my computer back, so there could've been some problem with the e-mail controls I'd set to avoid spam. Honestly! Who in their right minds would send spam to a vegetarian? Anywho... I pulled all the controls back, and I hope that it will help. I've just been languishing without your letters, and now that I have such a pretty face to mentally attach to your lovely words, I'm just squirmy! As for your yummy reviews, allow me to respond... you darling girl... Ch.9: It's rewarding to know that you like Isabelle, and I agree with you about her compatibility with Severus as far as a relationship which is mostly physical goes. I like Ollivander and the way he sells wands, but I assume that there must be someone out there who just gives the customer whatever the hell they ask for when they hear the clink of gold. Truthfully, I've always preferred those kinds of shops. Isabelle just doesn't seem to me to be the type to bend to anyone's will for long, especially not that of a wand. I'm glad that you seem to appreciate and under stand Emily's hatred of the memory charm. I thought that it would be appropriate to her personality. And, the fact that you feel I haven't lost my touch in my absence just makes me glow all over. Ch.10: Ah, yes. I've helped along some Snape fantasies. You seem to have stumbled upon my secret evil plan. That is actually my ultimate goal, to get everyone so caught up in Severus fantasies that it will be simple to TAKE OVER THE WORLD HAHAHAHA!!!!! Okay, so it isn't a very good plan, but you gotta start somewhere. I'm glad you like the mixture of flashbacks with the current story line. I was very concerned about that when I first began this story, but it seems to be a hit. Yay for me! Ch.11: So, you like the sexual tension, eh? I do, too. Though it's killing me to not just leap into bed and... I mean, write about **them** leaping into bed and... well, guess I didn't cover that too well. And, yeah. I want their first time to really mean something, especially since it's Emily's **first** first time. Geez. Halfway through her thirties and still a virgin. That's something! Ah, just the words I wanted to hear: Sev is in character and not sappy. Yes. I can sleep tonight. I prefer to have Severus make his own decision about becoming a spy as well. It just makes more sense that he would insist on having that control in his life. And, as little warmth as I feel for Dumbledore, I just don't see him asking someone to do that. Ch. 12: Mr. Loaf and I should write a book? Hey, that's a thought! I'm actually working on something that I hope to publish. Unfortunately for the Loaf, with the exception of some (hopefully) hot sex, it has very little action in it. "Rock Biter" rocked and that's all there is to it; and, after the trepidation I felt with that chapter, I'm just glad that my golems reminded you of anything vaguely large and hard. Hee hee. You're laughing at that, I know, and I didn't even mean it that way. I thought that basing the runic circles on individual elements would not only give the action some variety, but also steer the characters toward a well-defined goal. That helps when wanting to keep a story from slipping and sliding all over the place. Yes. You still have water and fire, but there are five points on a pentacle. You're forgetting the most important one. Alas, I can reveal nothing about who laid the runes. You must hang on with me until the end to find out... and I'll love every minute of it. Ch. 13: Oh my goodness, did you not just want to strangle James Potter and his worthless friends? I mean, what kind of bitter, hateful psychos were they? GRRR! Ah, so you're wondering about Eric, are you? Good... very good. (Rubs hands together and chuckles wickedly). Ch. 14: Ooh, your favorite chapter? Really? (Blush!) I'm so happy you liked it. It certainly was a blast to write. As far as Paganism, I know that this is more than the usual sprinkle, but I just couldn't resist! I mean, ya gotta celebrate something! I'm glad that you didn't think I'd gone overboard. I really need to get my butt in gear and do some Mists of Avalon. Look. I'm making a mental note to do so as soon as possible. I'll not long be out of the loop, just let me get to another day off. Lucius in a Herne mask - ah, yes - so I'm not the only one who's affected by that? Good. I'm glad that you see how irresistible a party would be to a party girl who's been hanging out in a small cell for sixteen years. Yes. It was stupid and selfish, but... poor girl! All she wanted was a good time. She can't help being a dimwit. I hate to say it, but Lucius was indeed just looking to be bad. It's not the way I've traditionally portrayed him, I know. He's much, much darker in this fic, but he won't remain one-sided, I promise. Hope you didn't mind the rescue. Again, thank you so much for the reviews. They meant the world to me, and keep me updated on the e-mail thing. We have to fix this before I go nuts!

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Quietude: Yes. Emily is back in business as far as being an ingenious moron goes. I think that the years in Azkaban have done more to make her want to get out and enjoy herself than anything else. After all, she's fairly certain that she's going back after this business is finished. But, I do understand your frustration. She's reckless and selfish, and there's just no sugar coating it. I'm glad you got it out of your system, but I do so love to hear you rant! Your reviews got me back on the keyboard and writing. I'm deeply appreciative, and happy to hear that it's not a burden for you. I may just write a Snape/Isabelle story. It would be fun. But, I have to do the third installation of the Alex stories when this is finished and the one-shot Lucius fic which is turning into an actual short story, damn my long-winded writing style! Thank you for explaining UST. That's kinda cool. And, it's not you who is behind the times. I'm wholly illiterate when it comes to netspeak. Hope this update satisfied and you're back on solid ground now. I'm currently writing chapter seventeen, so the next update is only a few days away, I promise!

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Catlein: Hi! Welcome! Sit down. Have a cup of tea. Help yourself to a muffin or some cookies. I'm so happy to have you! Your review made me blush so violently that I had to put a cold cloth on my face. Thank you so much for your compliments. I'm simply breathless. Your review came on a morning during which I was feeling particularly poopy, and allowed me to go to work with a huge grin on my face. Your wish is my command. There will be more flashbacks with Eric, and I hope that they flesh things out and explain some heretofore unexplained phenomena. Also, I am bringing some other characters in in just a few chapters (the one I'm currently writing, to be specific), so yay for both of us! Thank you again for your kind words. I hope to hear from you again.

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sev lover: Thank you so much for reviewing. I'm thrilled that you're enjoying the story, and find it incredibly sweet that you don't want Emily to get hurt. I trust, then, that you're happy she was rescued... for all the good it did her.


	16. Chapter Sixteen: The Balance Shifts

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Chapter Sixteen: The Balance Shifts

Author's note: Credit for the theme and title of this chapter goes to The Loaf, my beta reader, best friend, and hetero-life-mate.

It was an arduous tale to tell, especially with her head pressed to a cold, stone floor and death itself hanging in the air over her head like an executioner's axe, but she managed to complete it with as few fabricated details and embellished facts as possible. The trick in lying to Voldemort lay in not lying at all, but telling as much of the truth as was prudent, then putting a light spin on those facts to twist them into the proper shape. In the end, she felt she'd pulled together a fairly convincing tale of Severus nursing her back to health at the request of Dumbledore for the purpose of cleansing the school, which he knew anyway, then added details of Severus slowly and subtly drawing out the truth of her continued allegiance to the Dark Lord.

As she spoke, she closed off most of her mind and spoon-fed him as many memories from her recent time with Severus as would enhance her story and convince him of her honesty, especially their first conversation in which he feigned his reasons for freeing her. If it worked, she would weep with joy; if it didn't, she would at least die with well-warranted pride in her own cunning. She concluded with a round of praise for Severus who had spent the past week convincing her to conquer her fear and doubt and return to her master's side where she belonged and where she would be needed in the coming war.

Finally, having utterly run out of things to say, she fell silent, and placed her future in the hands of Fate. It was a long while before Voldemort spoke.

"Severus has ever been faithful to me," he began, "and, once more, he proves his usefulness. I shall be certain to reward him for his service."

With that, she finally remembered how to breathe.

It was going to be alright.

"_You_, on the other hand," he continued with a quiet fury that hitched her breath quite painfully in her lungs, "openly challenged me and escaped without retribution. There is someone here who should like to speak with you about that oversight.

"Lucius," he purred, as he often did when addressing a favorite, "do come forward."

A rustle of expensive robes and the soft tread of a delicate step in fine boots circled around her and stopped at his master's side.

"I believe that we have an account to settle with this woman," he said softly.

"Indeed we do." His cold, drawling voice, promising pain with every syllable, shivered along her spine and left her feeling as if she'd been bathed in ice. "The punishment for desertion is death, Master. What do you wish of me?"

Again, there was a pregnant pause in which she viciously fought the urge to squirm. Finally, he spoke.

"She returned to me freely," he said reasonably. "I am therefore willing to consider her an insurgent rather than a deserter."

She could almost feel Malfoy's disappointment.

"Still," Voldemort added swiftly, "her debt to me has accrued sixteen years of unpaid interest."

"_Yes_, Master," Lucius agreed eagerly.

"Make me proud, Lucius."

"It will be my honor, Lord."

With a single, dreaded word from the Dark Lord's right hand, Emily's body split open with agony, and she screamed. In a night pregnant with possibility, suddenly everything was peeled away leaving nothing but the pain, which was followed, more quickly than she dared hope, by welcome darkness.

An instant later, the peace of oblivion was stolen away and despair washed over her like a black wave as she curled into a shivering, sobbing ball of misery and tried to fill her lungs with air.

An inappropriately composed voice fell on ringing ears from above. "Not even a shadow of the woman she was, is she Lucius?"

"She's become weak, Master, uselessly so." A fine leather boot wedged itself under her side and rolled her over, the jarring movement tearing a cry of pain from her burning throat. "Pathetic," he remarked, almost sadly. "Shall I dispose of her?"

There was a heavy silence in which Voldemort, much to Emily's horror, apparently weighed the proposition. She dug deep for a reservoir of strength, pulled herself to her knees and crawled back to her master to lie prostrate at his feet, her heart pounding wildly. As awful as torture could be, particularly under Lucius Malfoy's practiced hand, she had no desire to end it with her death.

"Master, please no," she begged. "Sev's potions take time, but I'm stronger every day." A trembling hand reached for the hem of his robe and brought it to her lips. "Have mercy, Master."

"Mercy?" he hissed venomously. "Remove your hands from my robe," he demanded coldly, and she obeyed without hesitation. "No, Miss Grey. You search for mercy in a man who has none. Lucius, it would seem that our friend requires a bit more _direction_... a reminder, if you will, of our way."

"No!" she screamed before she could stop herself. Her panicked breathing was a cadenced roar in her own ears as Lucius approached once more. Wholly unable to control the visceral response, she tried to crawl away on shaking limbs, sobbing, pleading inanely for forgiveness. Voldemort stepped back from her advancing form just as Malfoy's curse turned her pleas into tortured screams... until darkness claimed her once more.

But, she was allowed no rest. As soon as the world disappeared under the blanket of oblivion, Lucius dragged her back into torment. Endlessly, it seemed, the cycle continued: unbearable pain, then peace, then pain again until the taste of blood filled her mouth and she collapsed in a pool of her own vomit, drenched in sweat and too exhausted to even free the tears that begged release.

Drawing in a ragged breath, she tried to curl her body, waiting for the next wave of torment.

Instead, the most welcome words she'd ever heard came from somewhere behind her.

"That will do, Lucius," said Voldemort. Then, "Now, Emily," he added, his voice serene. "I do hope that we understand one another."

Having lost her voice ages ago, she was left with no recourse but to nod, the movement of her face smearing the vulgar contents of her stomach, causing her to gag. Thankfully, there was nothing left to purge.

"Good," he said softly, almost kindly. "Then we will end the lesson here. A wise Death Eater would make certain that we never need discuss this again... Lucius, attend to her."

In half a moment she was cleaner than she'd been when she arrived, her skin tingling as if she'd just given it a thorough scrubbing. Any other time, she would've laughed. Leave it to Lucius to have a cleaning spell as intense as his Cruciatus.

With surprising gentleness, he knelt and pulled her into his arms, quietly reassuring her when she cried out in pain. As she rested against his shoulder, he held a small bottle to her lips. She gave a subtle sniff and recognized the smell as that of a powerful restorative. This she drank greedily, no longer caring about the humiliation of her helplessness. It mattered very little in the face of feeling the pain in her body begin to fade. With dizzying speed, what little strength she possessed returned to her and the haze cleared from her vision.

"Better?" he whispered gently.

She gave a small nod, even managed a smile, knowing that the worst was over.

"Can you stand?" Again, she nodded, and he helped her struggle to her feet.

She was unprepared, she knew, for the rush of emotions that now threatened to bring her to her knees once more as she faced her master for the first time in sixteen years and contemplated what her return to him would mean. More for her own comfort than reverence, she kept her eyes lowered as he addressed her quietly.

"You have not yet paid your debt to me, child, but I will consider this a worthy beginning," Voldemort stated, his tone kind, almost fatherly, the way it had been when she'd first come to him years ago. She felt an inexplicable rush of gratitude for it, and for him. It was an honor, really, that he would allow her to return. Most would have been tortured to death, just as her father had been.

"You will never disobey me again, will you?"

"No, Master," she managed to whisper.

"Look at me."

Swallowing the lump that wouldn't seem to go away, she lifted her face to his blood-red eyes, barely stifling a gasp when she saw him. She wasn't the only one who'd changed.

A skeletal, bone-white hand reached up to caress her face, sending a series of shudders down her spine. Then, inadvertently, the shudders ceased and were replaced by something altogether different: the memory of her former devotion, a shadow of adoration in her mind. Being touched so tenderly by this creature of almost unmatched power was an honor beyond reckoning, one she did not deserve.

Letting slip a single tear, she leaned into his caress and turned her head to press her lips to his palm in a delicate, lingering kiss. "Master," she whispered adoringly.

Voldemort smiled, a thin curving line of approval at the affectionate gesture.

"You have changed, child. You are weak, and of no use to me," he explained like a patient instructor. "But, your master can rid you of your lamentable frailty. Would you like that? To be restored beyond your former glory?"

Emily started. This was a contingency she had not anticipated in her wildest dreams. When Voldemort promised punishment, he delivered. It was the same with any other promise he made. For all his faults, he was unerringly honest with his followers. Emphatically, she nodded, too moved to speak and beyond relieved at the look of satisfaction on his serpentine face.

"And what will you give to me in exchange for this gift?"

For the first time since she'd come, she answered with absolute sincerity. "Whatever you ask of me, Master."

Voldemort stepped back, still smiling lightly. "Lucius, bring our newest guest to me."

With a reverent bow, he vanished, returning less than a minute later with a dark, heavily-muscled man, standing impressively tall and straight despite his bloodied, swollen face and a wand at his back.

"Emily Grey," Voldemort began, gesturing grandly, "Kingsley Shacklebolt, one of the most powerful aurors in the Ministry... but not the wisest. The wisest now belong to me." Pacing slowly, he circled the huge wizard who was now glaring down with utter contempt. "This one foolishly refused a most generous offer."

"It's a great honor to be called a fool by one such as you, Riddle," the man returned, his voice rich and deep and unwaveringly calm.

Voldemort only chuckled. "I could almost bring myself to miss you, Kingsley, but tonight your death will be of great use to me."

The auror stood, unmoving and, for all appearances, unmoved.

Emily was impressed despite herself.

"Tonight," Voldemort began, "the balance shifts a little more in my favor, as it has done every night since my return to power. Tonight, one of _his_ dies, and one of mine is reborn."

A courtly nod to Lucius, and the auror was on his knees, immobilized there.

"Kneel before him, Emily," Voldemort ordered coldly.

She did as she was bid, suddenly very wary of the situation. She was no stranger to dark ritual and knew the stirrings of one when she felt them. The air had already begun to thicken with the power of the Dark Lord's intention. This brave man was about to die for her sake, and she was far from comfortable with the idea. There were no options at this point, though, except open defiance and she would never, ever risk that again. If Severus could sacrifice her father for the sake of appearance, then she could damn well sacrifice this stranger. Her eyes darted up to his stern face, then back to her master, waiting for further instructions.

Lucius Malfoy approached first, unsheathing a wicked blade from somewhere inside his robes, and with it, calmly sliced a long, deep furrow in the auror's wrist. He didn't even flinch, Emily noticed with awe. The action was repeated with Emily, who released a sharp hiss as he opened her vein. Reflexively, she pulled away, but Lucius held her in an unbreakable vice. Silently, he brought the wounds together, intertwined their fingers, and bound their wrists tightly with a spiraling sweep of his wand, then crouched down beside them.

"Emily Grey, do you accept this sacrifice for your restoration?"

She opened her mouth to respond, but he cut her off before she could begin. "To him, Emily," he said firmly, indicating Kingsley with a brief nod of his fair head.

She ground her teeth, understanding that she needed to be fully invested in this man's death for the spell to work, and turned her head to see his dark eyes boring into her with undisguised loathing. _Ah_, she thought regretfully, _one of Eric's old friends no doubt_.

For a moment, she felt a pang of deep regret, then he curled his lip in disgust. Narrowing her eyes, she answered resolutely. "Yes. I accept this sacrifice."

Voldemort stepped forward, then, a smile of triumph on his face, and began to speak.

As soon as the first words left his mouth, the auror trembled, his hand shaking as the life and power slowly bled from his body; and Emily stiffened as a sweet warmth rose deep within, her body ripe and open to all that spilled from him. The power swirled around and within her, and she shivered in response to its caress, aching for more.

She was not denied. With each cry of pain and dismay from the man, the woman cried out as well, now panting for breath as the glorious sensations began to swell to an unbearable climax.

Suddenly, the auror collapsed, drawing her joined body down atop his as his breathing became more shallow, the sweat beading, then falling like dark rain down his swiftly-graying skin. Watching his eyes glaze over, Emily lost all sense of self and fell screaming into a whirling pool of ecstasy. All time and space disappeared, and she convulsed wildly with the sudden rush of power as the last vestiges of life left his body.

With a final, violent shudder of savage ecstasy, she threw back her head and howled into the darkness, the sound of her master's chanting ringing in her ears as the wound on her wrist closed, sealing the newfound power within.

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She was still reeling when she apparated back to Severus' small estate. The power felt as though it was more than a part of her. It felt as though her entire existence was defined by it, that she had become that power, and it was almost more than she could handle. Nothing, _nothing_ mattered to her more than cradling this new intensity within her.

The sudden, sharp _crack_ of an apparation turned her on her heel to face the new arrival, and she inhaled sharply at the surprise of seeing Lucius Malfoy standing before her.

"Didn't I just leave your party?" she quipped with a wide smile.

"Just a moment more of your time, Miss Grey," he said unsmilingly, his wand already moving. She tensed as he spoke before recognizing the concealing charm. It didn't mean that she was safe, per se - after all, he wished to hide what he was about to do from prying eyes - but if he hadn't killed her outright, he probably wasn't going to. Lucius was extremely forthright in his dealings with his fellow Death Eaters, just like Voldemort.

She waited humbly, eyes downcast, for him to continue, which he did in short measure - after he closed the distance between them with a few, decisive steps. She tensed uncontrollably, her fingers twitching by the place at her hip where her wand usually rested.

"Relax, Emily," he said calmly. "Had I come to kill you, you would be dead."

She smiled, then, relieved at the revelation, and he returned the deed faintly.

"Then, to what do I owe the honor of a visit from my master's right hand?"

"Just this: I know that Severus Snape is spying for Dumbledore." Emily carefully molded her features into a mask of indifference. "I see that you do not deny it," he continued soberly. "That's very wise of you. I am not fond of being lied to."

She stood frozen to the spot, just listening as her heart's blood pounded in her ears.

"Fortunately for Severus," he continued, "the Dark Lord refuses to even acknowledge the idea. He's quite taken with the potions master, and we spent many hours _discussing_ my "false accusation" when last I mentioned it. I was under the care of my entire team of Mediwizards for a week afterward," he said, visibly shaken by the memory.

Emily understood. She had never been tortured by Voldemort himself, but she'd heard that Lucius had perfected the curse with personal instruction from the Dark Lord, himself, and Lucius could kill a man within a few minutes when he allowed the curse to continue unabated. She, herself, had spent enough time under Malfoy's wand, tonight being a noted example, to understand how horrible those memories could be.

"I must accept that our master will not hear the truth about Severus," Lucius continued, a slightly bitter edge to his voice. He moved even closer, then, assessing her with his unwavering gaze. "It is a difficult thing, Emily, to watch an old friend betray you - to see him change, year after year, into a man you do not recognize, to lose all of his joy, sacrifice all the pleasure his position has to offer... in order to behave like some pretentious, self-righteous weakling who lacks the common sense to see where that path is taking him.

"And, in the end, it will all be for nothing. Everyone he's killed to protect his secret, all the lies he's told, his deception, will be dragged into the light and revealed to all. Then, our master will see the truth, and I will be rewarded with his punishment." There was a feverish light in his gray eyes, now, as he continued. "And, I will never let him die, Emily, or sink into the peace of insanity. He will suffer for as long as I have breath. I will make certain of that.

"I have come to you, now, to ask you this one question." He searched her eyes carefully, leaning so that his fair hair fell in a curtain of light over his shoulder between them. "Where do _your_ loyalties lie, with the traitor you love or with the master to whom you have sworn allegiance? Ask yourself who will assure your place in the world when the war is over."

He took her hand in his own and held it tightly.

"Don't answer me, now. Give yourself time to see how quickly we progress, how quickly the other side begins to fall. It won't be long, Emily. And, if you are on the wrong side when the last spell is cast..." He hesitated as a look of true pain shadowed his eyes. "I _do not_ wish to do to you what I will be required to do."

Wordlessly, she nodded, not knowing what to say, how to respond to him. He was right, of course. Now that she'd seen Voldemort, felt his power once more, she had no doubt who would win this war. And Severus would suffer for his lack of loyalty. She had only two options, really, she could suffer with him or she could prevail. Perhaps, if she achieved a high enough position, she could convince Malfoy to at least kill him quickly... or she could change Sev's mind about Voldemort. Neither were very promising possibilities, at present.

Thankfully, he didn't seem to expect her to respond at all, and in the silence, he had lifted her hand to his lips and kissed it lingeringly. "I am pleased that you have come home to us, my lady."

Her heart fluttered for a moment as he stepped back, gave a courtly bow, and disapparated.

_Lucius Malfoy, all grown up_, she thought... _how intriguing_.

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Teenage Zombie: Yeah, the crap hit the fan and splattered all over the walls, but she at least took a paintbrush to it and smeared it into an interesting shape. You'll have to excuse the imagery, but I'm working on a painting for my friend's twenty-first birthday and I rather have the subject at the forefront of my thoughts right now. I like the way you assert that she's Emily Grey. It rather reminds me of Captain Jack Sparrow. I can see her swaggering up to Severus after an argument. "You're forgetting one thing, man. I'm Lady Emily Grey."

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Sev lover: Oh, I'm with you. Severus is so shaggable when he's pissed! I swear he gives me chills. Thanks for the compliment. I would never wish to portray my beloved Sev as anything less than perfectly sexy at all times. Emily is a little off-balance, that's true. She's selfish, as well, far too selfish to see that anyone who holds her back does so for her own good. I rather see her as a rebellious child testing her parents' boundaries. She's soon to learn that pushing Sev to the limits of his is a terrible idea. Thank you for being caught up in the storyline. It thrills me to no end.

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Sesshoumaru's Angel: Yeah. Severus does things to me, too... and Lucius. Lucius absolutely curls my toes! Draco is a hottie in training, definitely, but a bit young for me. In my last story, The Side I'm Always On', I gave my character the opportunity to stand in as a kind of big sister to Draco, and it was loads of fun! I'd love to take him out on the town and par-tay! Thanks for the encouragement with my heart's desire at work. She spoke to me at great length two days ago and I nearly fell to pieces. Gods! I'm such a coward! If I ever finish this damn book, I'll give you head's up so you can look out for it. Thanks for sticking with me!

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Dianatyne: Oh, you're on the edge of your seat? Really?! I'm so happy! Yay for me! Hope this chapter resolved some of the tension. I'll fix a cup of mint tea with honey for you. No caffeine. You'll like it, I promise. But, if you could pass some of that apple juice, I'd be most appreciative. Man, I haven't had apple juice in a long time!

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Captain Oblivious!: From my very first answer to your very first review, I've put an exclamation point at the end of your name. I have no idea why. It's some weird association thing, so I think I'll just leave it instead of erasing it if you don't mind. You can be my epic reviewer, expert in waffle-fu and the hundred meter snatch and dash for the pants of missing Godfathers. Though, just between us, I wouldn't try that with Marlon Brando. He's pretty tough. I'm so happy that you approve of Severus not forgiving her. I agree with you that it would be totally out of character for him to just melt at the first hint of apology. Sev's the type to make a woman suffer until **_he_** feels better about things. Then, maybe - _maybe_ - he might approach, but more than likely, he'd make her come crawling to him. Damn, I love that in a man!

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Lady Jenilyn: My poor little Jenny-Jen! I'm so sorry that things are so poopy for you right now! If I had a magic wand, I'd wave it in your direction and wish all the bad away. But, life's not like that. You have to go through the pain and I can only be here to hold your hand from a distance and whisper what little comfort I have to give. If you can't write, you can't write. I understand. My compassion for you does not ride on letters or reviews or updates. It lies in knowing what a wonderful woman you are, and how empty your life could be but for your own strength of character that I so admire. I'm always here if you need me. In answer to your review: I'm thrilled that you found the chapter exciting! Yes. She was a very bad girl, and Severus has every right to be royally pissed. Of course, if he has even the slightest reason to be angry, he'll snatch it and run with it. That's one of the things we love about him. Oh, I am so glad you mentioned Voldie! I was SO concerned that I would overdo him. You know from personal experience that it is far too easy to do so. And, frankly, I thought that giving him muggle-skin robes IN YOUR EXCELLENT FANFIC, 'MIRROR OF MY DREAMS' was a stroke of pure genius. Your whole scene with him was some of your best writing, and that's saying something. I hope that the rest of the Voldie stuff in this chapter was acceptable. You'll tell me, won't you? I trust your opinion. Feel better, moi petite! I miss you. You are always in my thoughts.

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Quietude: God, reviews like yours are so fun!!! I love getting a rise out of my reviewers. It lets me know that the story's not completely boring. I hope that Emily's story-weaving, making Severus smell like a rose garden, was acceptable to you. But, you're right. She probably should've let Sev handle it. Unfortunately, what should be done and what Emily usually does are, more often than not, wholly unrelated. I couldn't agree with you more about torturing her. She makes me angry sometimes, too, but I can't let her go wandering around out of character. Hopefully the harsh dealings in this chapter sated your taste for blood for a little while. She paid a price for her folly, no doubt. Yes. I'll be continuing the Alex saga when I finish this fic. I shudder to give away details, but just to ensure that you'll at least give it a chance, I will assure you that, with the exception of a few memories, there is no Rose in this next one, just Alex and Sev and Lucius... and yet another OC who features rather prominently. Hope to see you there!


	17. Chapter Seventeen: An Old Acquaintance

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Chapter Seventeen: An Old Acquaintance

Severus paced like a great, black cat, his long, smooth strides carrying him swiftly from one end of the room to the other. A furtive eye checked the clock on the wall. She'd been gone for four hours.

_Four hours_!

_What_ was he doing to her?

Was she even still alive?

And if not, was he next?

If she didn't return within the hour, he would have no choice but to go to Dumbledore and admit his failure. That was _not_ a meeting he looked forward to. How could he explain that he, a wizard known for his extreme caution, had simply allowed his prisoner free run of his home while he was too injured to exert any control over her?

The trust he'd fought so hard to never betray would be broken.

_Emily, what have you done? If the Dark Lord doesn't kill you, I may._

He stopped pacing long enough to glance through the window for what seemed like the thousandth time. And suddenly she was there staring up at him, looking much like she had as a youth, vigorous and healthy, with a dazzling smile lighting her lovely face like the morning sun.

For a moment he doubted his eyes, thinking it to be no more than a vision of the past, dredged up by his subconscious and brought to life by extreme exhaustion. The young, beautiful, healthy creature on the lawn was _not_ what he had carried in his arms out of the belly of Azkaban.

But, then she ran for the house. He heard the front door bang open and his name echo from the walls. A moment later, Emily burst into the room and fairly tackled him in her excitement. Severus shoved her away, instinctively drawing his wand as she stumbled back, and the smile melted from her features as she caught her balance with disturbing ease.

"Put that away, Severus," she said sternly. "We need to talk."

Snape, for a moment, was completely taken aback, so much so that he could only stare. The power was coming off of her in waves of energy so tangible that they pushed at him like a strong gust of wind. Her face was exactly what it would have been had she never seen the inside of a prison cell: fair-skinned and pink-cheeked with brilliant green eyes that seemed to stare right through him. It was Emily, but something else as well, something tainted with a well-concealed evil so strong he could almost smell it. It was a stench he knew all too well; he had choked on it more times than he cared to count.

It was Voldemort.

She was _drenched_ in his power.

"Indeed we do," he answered quietly, ever-so-cautiously, nodding to the chairs beside the fire.

She glanced at them, then back at him. "I won't be bound, Sev," she stated firmly, "and I won't be given Veritaserum. Put your wand away," she repeated, more softly this time, "and I'll tell you everything that's happened."

* * *

The tale was a long time in telling, even without mentioning the meeting with Lucius, and Severus was quietly, subtly seething by the time Emily reached the end. She couldn't remain seated for long, often rising to pace the room as she talked, seemingly overwhelmed with a sudden, disturbing onslaught of restless energy. He feared he understood where it came from, and by the time she finished speaking, his theory was confirmed.

"Did you get this auror's name?" he asked quietly.

"Kingsley something or other," she answered in an offhand manner.

"Shacklebolt," Severus intoned quietly.

His head snapped up as she plopped back down in her chair opposite him. "Aren't you even going to thank me?" she asked flippantly.

"For what, precisely?"

"For saving your life," she answered incredulously.

"You seem well enough rewarded for your efforts this night."

Her eyes narrowed, and he could feel the anger rolling from her like a strong tide. This profusion of power wouldn't last long, but he would need to keep her controlled until it abated. She would still be dangerous after the excess faded, but only as much so as she had been before she was imprisoned. He hadn't been afraid of her then. He would be damned if he'd fear her now.

_However_, he thought, slipping a hand into his sleeve to grasp his wand, _it is always wise to be on one's guard_.

"What is that supposed to mean?" she bit out.

"Have you looked into a mirror recently? You are wholly restored, but the magic was fed with the blood of an innocent man."

"I wasn't given a choice, Severus," she fumed, up and pacing once more. "And, he was not exactly an innocent man," she reasoned angrily. "He was an auror, and this is a war. People are going to die."

Curiously, her voice seemed to falter with that last statement.

"Better them than you?" he questioned heavily, rising as well to interrupt her furious pacing by blocking her well-worn path.

She looked into his eyes unwaveringly. "Exactly."

He watched her carefully. It was unlikely that he could stun her. She was too high on power, too ready for him to attack.

"I should have left you in Azkaban," he said simply, his wand now openly displayed.

"Really?" she asked calmly, obviously unfazed by the implied threat. "Well, you may explain your change of heart to our master when he calls for you."

Black eyes flickered. "And, when will that be?"

"Soon. Tonight. Tomorrow before dawn, at the latest. I believe he wishes to reward you for reforming me." She gave him a nasty glare. "You're welcome."

He answered the sarcasm with a small sigh. "I do owe you thanks. You spun straw into gold tonight, and likely saved us both," he whispered, gently cradling her face. "I'm sorry that I doubted you, Emily. You _are_ a wonder."

He smiled, then, a soft curving of his lips and stepped closer as he sheathed his wand, seeing for the first time since she'd returned, some semblance of softness in her gaze.

Carefully, keeping his eyes locked with hers until the last moment, he kissed her sweetly, and was rewarded with a deep, sighing moan. He would've chosen to let the kiss linger, deepening it slowly, but she returned the gesture greedily, still overwhelmed with the power flooding her, pulling him closer with an eager hand buried in his hair.

Breaking away with a gasp, he traced her throat with tiny bites, knowing instinctively what she wanted. "Oh, yes, Sev," she breathed into his hair. "Just like that. Hurt me, _please_."

"That, I fear, will be inevitable this first time," he answered gently, drinking in the eagerness in her eyes.

A moment later, she was in his arms as he carried her the short distance to her own bed, ushered her down, and covered her body with his, kissing her with desperate need.

Frantically, she tore at his clothes, pleading wordlessly as his tongue plundered her mouth.

He broke away again, searching her eyes eagerly, "Emily, my love," he whispered. She smiled her acquiescence, assuring him with her eyes that she wanted this as much as he.

He rose to his knees, then, reaching as if to remove his shirt, but quickly slipped his hand into his sleeve instead. Her smile faltered, and eyes flew wide when she realized his intention, but by the time she could react, his wand was at her head and a stunning spell on his lips.

* * *

Emily awoke to the sound of raised voices, fluttering her eyelids in the light of the gas lamps on the unfamiliar walls, and giving her temples a thorough rubbing to try and relieve the ache within her brain. The pain that lingered after a stunning spell of that intensity was absolutely awful, but the pain in her heart was a hundred times worse.

She stared up at the ceiling moodily, not believing what Severus had done to her. How could it be that, in the space of an hour, a man she loathed had befriended her and the man she loved had used that love to manipulate and betray her? What in Hades was happening to the world?

He could've stunned her within the first few seconds, during that first passionate kiss when she clung to him so desperately, wanting to be sure of him, needing to feel some affection that was not contrived. She had completely believed that he intended to make love to her, and he knew it. Knowing Severus Snape, he merely wanted to make a point that, of the two of them, she was the bigger fool. Of course, what truly stung was the knowledge that he was right.

Swiftly, she rose to her feet and shook the stiffness from her limbs, amazed when it fell away without a trace, leaving her feeling limber and strong. "Thank you, master," she whispered without thinking, positive that the life he had given to her (_the life of a man who would have died anyway_, she sternly reminded herself) was responsible for her rapid recovery.

The voices on the other side of the door belonged to two men, Severus and someone unidentified, someone very angry. They were getting louder now and more passionate, and she crept to the door to better hear the heated exchange.

After listening for a few seconds, she let out a short huff of a laugh.

She might have known.

"... should've stepped aside and let me handle this, you arrogant..."

"And, I'm certain that you would have been delighted to '_step aside_' at the first hint of danger," Severus sneered, bringing a smile to Emily's lips.

"Are you insinuating that I'm a coward, Severus, because if you are..."

"Oh, no, Remus," Snape cut in silkily, "I'm not _insinuating_ anything." He let the insult hang quivering in the air for just a moment before continuing. "And, I find it difficult to believe that you would not leap at the opportunity to allow an accident to occur; you, who once plotted with Black to have me killed - How did Potter always put it? - Ah yes, '_just for existing_.'"

"Oh, get over it, Snape! I had nothing to do with that and you know it," the other man returned, obviously exasperated. "I'm not the snake you are."

"Oh, I would never honor you with that title," Seevrus agreed smoothly. "You have neither the cunning nor the subtlety to be a serpent."

"You mean the ability to lie to otherwise intelligent people and get away with it? I'll go without, thanks. And, you're not doing as well as you think, you know. You may be fooling Dumbledore, Snape, but no one else buys your reformed Death Eater routine. You're just waiting to see who comes out on top... And, in the meantime, you can take advantage of a tragedy to spend time on top of your prisoner."

"How _dare_ you?" Severus exploded, his voice ringing through the halls and causing the door to bow a bit with the force of his anger. Emily took a prudent step back. "You know _nothing_ of my allegiances, you self-righteous, sanctimonious..."

Emily decided that this would be a good time to give the boys something to do besides curse each other to death. It would also be a good time to give evidence in Snape's favor that, unfortunately for her, he was not shagging the prisoner. After trying the door handle on a very long shot, she began pounding the heavy, black wood with her fists.

"Hey! Keep it down out there!" she shouted, trying to sound as hardened as she was supposed to be. "My head is killing me!"

Silence answered, then a much more settled Severus spoke and, at his word, the door seemed to soften and stretch until it was as transparent as dirty window glass with the majority of the wood forming the frame. She forced her face into a mask of cold loathing when she spotted them on the other side.

"Where the hell are we?"

"That is hardly your concern," he fired back quietly. "I have business to attend elsewhere, and Dumbledore is away. You will remain with Lupin until I return."

"What?" she cried, a bark of laughter escaping her lips. "This shoddy little Gryph is my new warden? He couldn't watch over a housebroken puppy."

Lupin stepped forward, mouth open, but Snape slid casually in front of him, cutting him off entirely, and gave her a warning glare. "I will not be gone long, Miss Grey. I suggest you be a bit more civil to your 'warden,' or I shall hear of it when I return."

Remus stepped around the potions master now and faced him angrily. "I hardly need you to threaten the woman on my behalf, Severus. I am more than capable of..."

"Of what?" he snapped. "_Dealing_ with her? I shouldn't wonder. You've certainly handled other convicted murderers with great competence. Too bad we can't even find Black's corpse. We could attempt to acquire from it a testimony of your capability as a watchdog..." Lupin's face paled. "... or should I say, watchwolf?" Snape added with a wicked smirk.

Never one to allow time for a clever comeback, he turned on his heel and left in a dramatic swish of billowing black robes, reversing the spell on his way past the door. With a flash of light and a sharp snap, it righted itself and Emily was left alone.

For a long while afterward, she lay on the musty-smelling bed, her fingers drumming an uneven cadence on the mattress. Unbidden, came the memories of Remus Lupin and the confusion which inevitably accompanied them.

Emily donned her emerald green robe and shamrock pin, slipped into her most comfortable boots, tousled her hair roughly into place, and skipped out the door. Halfway down the hall, she stopped to enjoy the view from the third-floor balcony. With a brilliant morning sun burning off the mist and a perfumed breeze playing in her hair, today promised to be the most spectacular day for a World Cup match she'd ever seen.

And she'd finally, finally coaxed her father into buying top box seats! So, with her brother staying home, it would just be the two of them all day. Fabulous seats, fabulous game, and fabulous company. Absolute Paradise!

Skipping down the stairs, thinking that nothing could spoil her mood, she was shocked to find the wind abruptly sucked from her sails as she bound into the breakfast room to see her brother and, of all people, Remus Lupin, at the end of the table whispering like conspirators with their heads practically touching. Guilty expressions were turned to her in unison and both boys smiled nervously.

"Morning, Em," Eric greeted - far too cheerily for the desperate pleading in his eyes. She knew that look, had seen it many times before. It was his silent request for her to keep her teeth together and not cause any trouble.

Eric rarely had friends over. Indeed, he often seemed insanely jealous of her relationship with Severus who, for the first time in a very long time, would be neither at the manor nor in Emily's company. Perhaps Eric simply felt more comfortable having his friends over when a boy they hated so deeply wasn't present. But, if Eric thought for a moment that she'd be civilized to Remus Lupin, he could just think again.

She gave a tight smile to her twin, deliberately avoiding the eyes of his guest, but he wasn't going to make it that easy.

"I believe you know Remus." That desperate look again.

"Unfortunately," she answered curtly, turning on her heel to leave.

"Where are you going?"

"I'm not hungry."

"Oh, come on, Em," he called after her. "Don't be this way. Remus..."

"Was just leaving," Lupin interrupted kindly.

Emily sighed heavily and shook her head, turning back with as civilized a smile as she could manage. "No, don't go, Lupin. I'll be out of your way in an hour. I'm sure we can avoid killing each another until then... for Eric's sake."

"I quite agree," Lupin said with a warmer smile. "Will you come and have breakfast... please? I'd hate to be responsible for sending you off to the game half-starved. You might take a wild hair and actually eat stadium food," he added with a theatrical shiver.

That forced a reluctant laugh from her as she slid into a seat, silently cursing him for his easy, charming smile and tranquil temperament. Soon, she was munching her way through a plate of English muffins and strawberry preserves as her brother and Lupin resumed speaking in hushed tones.

"What are you two plotting over there?" she asked conversationally.

"World domination," was Eric's retort.

She chuckled into her coffee.

"Something funny?"

"Gryffindors will never take over the world," she answered smoothly. "Too noble."

"Well, maybe nobility is what the world needs for a change."

This inspired an outright laugh.

"What?" he prodded.

"Nothing, nothing," she chuckled. "Your robes should look splendid covered in boot tread. Why don't you just lie down across Diagon Alley and make it easy?"

"You see, Eric?" Remus began cheerfully. "A Slytherin can never understand the high ideals of a couple of upwardly-mobile Gryffindors."

Emily's smile faltered.

"High ideals?" she bristled. "Are those the encouragement behind tormenting a small, gifted boy who had never done a damn thing to you or your friends?"

"Emily..." Eric began, a warning in his voice.

"No, Eric," Lupin interrupted, dropping a hand on his arm. "She's right. James and Sirius were quite out of line, and they've started a war that's been escalating for far too long."

"A war you never lifted a finger to prevent," she snapped, "so don't pretend that you're even remotely blameless."

"I don't," he responded calmly. "I regret that I didn't stop them. It was inexcusable, I know." He gave his eggs a scowling poke with his fork. "But I'm rather... intimidated by them."

"More Gryffindor courage?" she muttered.

"There's more to me than my house colors, Emily," he reproved gently. "Can you truly say that you're completely defined by the Slytherin ideal?"

She didn't answer, just finished her coffee with a gulp and rose to leave.

"Emily," Eric called after her.

"What now?"

"If you see James and Sirius, could you please not tell them Remus is with me? He told them he wasn't feeling well."

Remus shrugged. "I'm not overly fond of Quidditch," he confessed.

"Well, I seriously doubt that your friends would lower themselves to addressing me in a social setting, but if they do," She glanced at her brother's pleading eyes and gave a tiny smile. "I never saw you."

"I appreciate that," Lupin said softly.

Emily regarded him solemnly for a moment. "You know what I would appreciate, Lupin?"

He shook his head faintly, eyes bright with curiosity.

"What you just told me about letting your friends torment Sev?" she began.

"Yes."

"I'd appreciate it if you'd repeat that to him... and add an apology to it. Despite the image Sev chooses to project, he does have feelings."

Remus stared at her expectantly for a moment, then responded.

"You know, I would've expected you to blackmail an apology out of me with the information that I'd skipped out on my friends."

"I thought about it." She raised her eyebrows pointedly. "But there's more to me than my house colors."

* * *

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Author's note: Please forgive the lateness of this update, dear reviewers. The chapter (and several more, actually) has been written for some time, but my beta reader, the Loaf, has fallen ill. So, raise your teacup to my brave little Loaf-man. He crawled out of his comfy chair to make sure that you guys got your update tonight. Thanks again for the support. Your reviews mean the world to me!

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Intel Ewok Ooohhh... nice compliment. Thanks. I love the thought of being able to write darkness well. I suppose it must indeed be nice for my readers to rest assured that I would never allow either of my guys to suffer a terrible fate. Invariably, they will find happiness... even if no one else does. Such is my dedication to Severus and Lucius. You're wise to not trust Emily. She is, as Teenage Zombie so sagely observed, far too easily seduced by power. Having grown up spoiled by her father and adored by her peers, she is a bit of a princess, so I have to give you the thumbs up on being a good judge of character.

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Queen of the Faeries: Calm yourself, my dear. Lucius is only here for a few cameos. After all, he is the right hand of the Dark Lord. It's kind of difficult to have a story centered around Death Eaters without him. But, Sev is still the main focus of the story and will forever be. So, no worries. I appreciate the good word about Emily's falling back into darkness being believable. I was very concerned about taking that transition slowly so that it wouldn't seem as though she just decided out of the blue that Voldie was her boss again. I like to think of him as being a really good politician and manipulator. After all, the men he has on his side aren't stupid weaklings to be bullied into submission. He would know how to break someone down, then build them back up in his chosen image. That said, I must answer your question with the same one: What **about** Severus?

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Sesshomaru's Angel: My book is about love and acceptance and the rapidly-changing philosophies that occur when one's life is turned upside down. I hope to have it finished by next summer, but who knows? I hope you do read it. It would be an honor.

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Teenage Zombie: Why does everyone keep saying that?! Okay, okay, so Lucius Malfoy is my other baby. You're right. I can't write a story without him, but it wasn't out of context or anything. Was it? I hope not. As for Emily being easily seduced by power, I'd have to say that you hit the nail right on the head. Emily craves power. It's like a drug for her, but we'll delve further into that in the next few chapters. Hope to see you there!

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Quietude: Cold and calculating, ungrateful, remorseless... Yes. That's Emily... from time to time. Don't give up hope. We have a long way to go until the end, and anything can happen. Be patient. But, keep ranting because I just LOVE IT!!! Not that I get off on your misery or anything. It's just so good to know that I'm not boring you to death. But, I believe I'm repeating myself, here. Sorry. Thank you so much for the compliment on the description of torture. I wanted it to be raw, but not repulsive. After all, the more empathy you have for Emily, the more you'll understand her choices... hopefully.

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Captain Oblivious: I've never read the list you mention, but I'll remedy that as soon as possible. A little humor is always appreciated. Please, PLEASE don't be insulted about Kingsley's death. I like him, too. I assure you that I didn't just kill him off. (I save that kind of thing for Ron) I picked him for several good reasons: his strength, his grace under pressure, his power... and of course, his general coolness. I wanted someone who would die a grizzly death without really batting an eyelash, someone who would go down with dignity and honor and there's a reason for that, but I can't reveal it right now. Give me a few chapters. I'll make his death a great deal more relevant, I promise. I agree with you about Voldemort being able to manipulate people into his service. See my answer to Queen of the Faeries, above, for more on that point. Good choice to back down from Brando. I applaud your sensibilities.


	18. Chapter Eighteen: A Fatal Mistake

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Chapter Eighteen: A Fatal Mistake

_The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood, who strives valiantly, who errs and comes short again and again, ... who at best knows achievement and who at worst, if he fails, at least fails while daring greatly, so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who know neither victory nor defeat._

-Theodore Roosevelt-

* * *

Emily woke suddenly and completely, inexplicably certain that she was not alone. She smiled inwardly at the opportunity to be as shrewd as Severus, and kept her eyes closed and face devoid of emotion as she took a wild stab in the dark.

"What is it, Lupin?" she asked coolly.

To her great joy, it was indeed he who responded with a sharp gasp of surprise, obviously a bit shaken at her knowledge of his presence. She smiled inwardly, but the good feeling was not meant to last.

"Get up." The words were spoken softly, but the air of command was unmistakable.

She sat up smoothly, swinging her legs over the side and sliding to her feet with a grace and speed that she knew would startle him. A single step brought her chest in contact with his wand and she gave it a derisive smirk, sliding her eyes slowly from the wand to his eyes.

"What do _you_ want?"

To his credit, he was not as shaken as she would've expected.

"As Severus has other responsibilities to attend to," he said coolly, "I intend to see what progress we can make on his assignment."

She winced inwardly. _This is not good_.

"Does Severus know about this?"

"_Snape_," he emphasized the unfriendly address, "does not make my decisions for me. This needs to be resolved; and, as he is otherwise occupied for an indefinite period of time, it falls to reason that another should take his place."

She was already shaking her head. "Lupin, no. You're not remotely strong enough. Even Sev found it difficult..."

"I assure you that I'm quite as capable a wizard as Snape, perhaps even more so," he interrupted reasonably. "And, despite what he thinks of me, I do not intend to lead you to your death, so you may lay that concern to rest."

"You don't want to see me die?" she asked skeptically. "That's hard to believe."

"Is it really? It's difficult to believe that I would find your death to be too... final?" His face hardened a bit. "I would prefer to see you rot in Azkaban for a few more decades. Then, perhaps, I would smile at your execution."

That silenced her and wiped the smirk from her face completely, the quiet, matter-of-fact hatred with which he addressed her. And, it hurt. She and Lupin had never been bosom friends, but they'd gotten on fairly well after the conversation before the World Cup. Of course, it hadn't been long before graduation and their respective allegiances separated them, but he often visited the estate to spend time with Eric, and they'd maintained a consistent peace for his sake. To see the look of cold fury on his face now was almost more than she could bear. And, the torment of it was that she couldn't find it in her heart to blame him.

"I knew you'd sold out to Voldemort, Emily," he continued, his voice still soft as it had ever been. "I knew because Eric knew, but he begged me to keep it between us... for your sake and your father's. He swore that he could turn you away from that path." His eyes shut tightly against the memory for a moment, a deep crease cutting down the center of his forehead as he fought to master himself. When he continued, his voice had gone cold. "He loved you more than his own life. And make no mistake, Emily, it was that perfect, reverent love for you that killed him." His composure began to fall away, then, his voice breaking slightly as he spoke. "If you can feel anything at all, you live with that for a few more decades. Let it tear at you as it's torn at me... then, I _might_ be satisfied to watch you die."

She shook her head slowly, stunned by his painful honesty and moved by the fact that he was obviously still suffering over her brother's death... almost as much as she. It bonded her to him in a moment, making his anguish her own and birthing within her a desperate desire for that misery to end, for him to understand.

"You're wrong, Remus," she whispered gently, wanting to reach out and touch him, to make some sort of human contact, but she wasn't foolish enough to do so. Instead, she tried to reach him through his sweet brown eyes, usually so full of warmth, now ice-cold.. "Love _was_ the death of him, but it wasn't his love _for me_ that did it. I wish I could expl- "

"Silencio!" he hissed, drawing her statement to a close with a start of surprise. "I'm much happier with silence than lies, Emily," he said, his voice low and dangerous, "so I'll do us both a favor and stop you there... before I forget myself."

* * *

An hour later, standing in the entrance hall of Hogwarts, the spell _finally_ wore off, but Emily kept her peace, not wanting to tip her hand to her captor. When he asked her if she knew what runic circle was next, she nodded. When he ordered her to lead him to it, she shrugged.

His answer was an irritated sigh. "You don't know where it is?" he asked incredulously.

She shook her head.

It was disturbing how quickly his wand was in her face, but he merely "countered" his silencing spell and continued. "And, just how were you planning to proceed?"

"It isn't easy, Lupin," she admonished softly. "This is a pretty big pile of rock. We've done well to find three."

"Yes, I'm certain that the combined genius of you and Snape can't possibly be matched," he countered. "What's the element of the next circle?"

"Water."

"Water?" he repeated blandly. "And you can't find it?"

She shook her head.

"May I assume that you've checked the lakeshore?"

"Of course."

"May I assume as well that you've interviewed the ghosts?"

"Severus has."

"Severus?" His eyes lost their focus as they did when he was considering. "Severus wouldn't think to..." he began, mostly mumbling to himself as he walked away. "This way," he called absently over his shoulder.

She followed reluctantly, not wanting to find the third rune, hoping to whatever higher powers might exist that Sev would come back before Lupin could get them both killed. But, once a person was in conference with Voldemort, there was no telling how long they'd remain. He could take it into his serpentine head to send Sev on a spur-of-the-moment quest or "reward" him with some virgin muggle to toy with. Oh, Severus _hated_ that! But, there would be little choice in the matter. One simply did not refuse the Dark Lord's "generosity" if one wanted to live.

_Please be careful, Sev_, she silently begged. _If you don't come back to me, I'll never forgive myself._

It was a long trek through the castle, but they finally arrived at their intended destination.

"The girl's bathroom?" she questioned sardonically.

Ignoring her completely, Lupin strode to the center of the room. "Myrtle?" he called kindly.

Emily understood immediately. Who better to know all the waterways of the school than the one who spent all her time in the plumbing? However...

"She doesn't really care for having men in her bathroom, Lupin. Maybe I should..."

But, her offer was cut off by a familiar wistful, girlish voice. "Is that Remus?" she called, floating around the corner of the furthest stall.

Remus smiled, that handsome, charming smile Emily remembered from childhood. She had to admit, it was good to see it again.

"Hello, Myrtle," he said winningly. "It's good to see you."

She giggled. "Are you coming back to teach this year?"

"I'm afraid not," he answered regretfully. "I'm just here to help with the runes."

"Oh." She drew out the single syllable until it became a bit of a moan. "All those nasty runes. I thought _Snivellus_ was..."

"Don't call him that!" Emily snapped, cutting her off entirely and drawing her attention.

The girl approached her quickly. "Why not? It's what _they_ used to call him," she asserted, gesturing to a rather embarrassed-looking Remus, "and they were always nice to me, not like that mean, nasty..."

"I'm warning you, Myrtle, you finish that sentence..." Another silencing spell cut her off before she could finish the threat, and she turned her glare on Lupin.

"Perhaps you'd do well to speak when you're spoken to, Miss Grey," he said quietly. "Now, Myrtle. I'd love to catch you up on all the news, but I really must hurry. I'm looking for the third circle. It's based on the element of water and may be somewhere around the plumbing or..."

"Or at the bottom of the lake," she finished for him, obviously quite pleased with herself.

* * *

Ten minutes later, they stood at the side of the lake in the place indicated by Myrtle and discussed the plan. Actually, Lupin discussed the plan while Emily fumed in silence, no longer bound by his spell, but getting angrier by the second, nonetheless.

"I understand that Snape shielded you from the effects of the runes while you worked to erase the circle itself. Is that correct?"

She only glared, arms crossed stubbornly, refusing to cooperate any further. If he was determined to get them both killed, then he would do so without her assistance.

"Miss Grey, I'm fairly certain that Dumbledore would have very few qualms about making your life a living torment within Azkaban should you refuse to aid us."

Still she stood, not even looking in his direction. If Albus thought that life in Azkaban could be any worse, then he had very little knowledge of what it was really like. Anyone who'd spent a single night in that horrid place knew that, once a person had been caged within their own worst nightmares, tormented by their inner demons for sixteen years, not much in the way of threats could move them.

She was certainly unmoved now... until Lupin reached out to firmly turn her gaze back to his.

"Emily, you are a Death Eater and a murderer," he said simply. "I don't want to see you freed from prison. I want you to suffer for a long time. Unfortunately, if you're successful here, you will be released. Snape will see to that," he added bitterly. "There's only one way out for you and it lies in your cooperation. You continue on with this childish snit of yours, you'll go right back to Azkaban, and the Headmaster will have to take time he doesn't have to repair the damage to the school. You stop sulking and do what is required of you and you'll earn your freedom. Everybody wins. Do you understand?"

Reluctantly, she nodded. "I do understand, but that doesn't change the fact that you're not strong enough to protect us. The runes are incredibly powerful. Sev and I barely survived the first two. You're making a huge mistake."

He smiled tightly, obviously pleased with her acquiescence. "I may not look like much, Miss Grey, but I was, according to Dumbledore, the best Defense instructor this school had seen in many years."

"Then, why aren't you still teaching?"

His smile faltered. "That is an entirely personal matter," he said simply, a clear hint of warning in his voice. "The point is that I am more than capable of protecting us both."

She sighed. "I need a dagger."

Lupin raised his eyebrows in question at the abrupt change of subject.

"For carving the runes," she clarified with an icy glare. Gods, she hated having to spell things out!

"Right," he replied smartly, conjuring a handy blade with a wave of his wand and handing it to his charge. "And, you'll also need..." With a tight twirl of his wand, he had her hair twisted behind her into a tight braid. "Mustn't have that in the way," he said by way of explanation.

Lastly, he passed her a disgusting wad of tentacles, which he'd procured from Snape's storeroom after visiting Myrtle, and popped another into his mouth.

"Ugh!" she moaned, eyeing the plant with a scowl. "Gillyweed? That's disgusting!"

"Eat it," he ordered in a tone that left no room for argument.

With a dangerous glint in her eyes, she obeyed. After she'd chewed and, with some difficulty, choked down the rubbery ball, Lupin gestured to the lake with a curt nod. "After you."

With another sigh and an angry shake of her head, Emily dove from the overhang. She wiped the water from her eyes as a nearby splash announced that Lupin had joined her and, just as the gillyweed began to take effect, they disappeared under the surface into the black water of the lake.

* * *

Severus Snape stood at the door of Number 12 Grimmauld Place and stared at the handle, brooding. _This is ridiculous_, he thought. _I'll have to go in at some point_. But, going in meant seeing Emily again and admitting that she was right in answering Voldemort's summons. She had done much more than simply deal with her blunder. Whatever lies she'd sold to Voldemort had improved his and her standing with the Dark Lord a hundredfold. Still, admitting that she was right had the terrifying potential to encourage this sort of behavior in the future, and that was the last thing he wanted.

She had to understand that, no matter what the outcome, her recklessness could have ruined a great many lives... could've just as easily cost them theirs.

With a great sigh, he swung the door open and swept through the entrance, nearly running headlong into a very welcome presence.

"Severus," the Headmaster greeted in his usual easy, friendly manner. "This is a pleasant surprise."

He inclined his head briefly, an old habit, acknowledging the older man's authority, and gave a tight smile. "Headmaster."

"Where is your charge?" Dumbledore asked calmly.

Snape's face fell immediately, sensing an approaching disaster. "She's here," he asserted carefully.

The usual twinkle left Dumbledore's eyes. "No, Severus. She is not."

"Where is Lupin?" Severus growled, starting forward.

Albus' words stopped his momentum cold. "The house is empty, Severus."

He pivoted on his heel, a look of dread shadowing his handsome features. There was a pregnant pause in which Severus perused all the possibilities, then settled on the most logical one. "We have to get to the school," he snapped, already moving. "_Now_."

Moment's later, they stood before the gates.

Severus had always felt that one of the greatest advantages of working with Dumbledore was his uncanny ability to sense, and therefore avert, disaster. That gift was put to use now as they passed through the gates. Before they had taken ten steps, Dumbledore had shifted his course toward the lake, traveling much faster than a wizard his age should've been able, and Severus followed wordlessly in his wake.

It seemed an eternity before the water came into view below the hills, and when Albus broke into a run, Severus followed doggedly, his heart pounding a terrified rhythm in his chest. Down the hill and around the bend, they flew, Snape's knees nearly giving way when at last he saw what had caused such an uncharacteristic panic in the older wizard. The world spun sickeningly around Severus' head as he covered the rest of the distance with impossible speed, needing to see what he couldn't bring himself to admit.

Lupin, pale as a ghost, soaked to the bone, and covered in innumerable paper-thin lines of blood, was dragging something large and unnaturally limp out of the water.

Severus stopped cold before them, suddenly breathing no more than the blue-tinged body that lay at his feet. He shrugged off the comforting hand that fell on his shoulder.

Lupin looked up from where he knelt, tears streaming unchecked, creating a river of blood from the open wounds that ran like garden furrows on his face, and spoke from another reality, his voice carried to Severus from a million miles away.

The words were heard, but made no sense. It simply wasn't real, any of it. The only thing that _was_ real, the only thing that existed in the world was the lifeless body on the ground... and the fact that somehow, suddenly and inexplicably, Emily was dead.

* * *

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Dianatyne: I had to laugh at your review and feel slightly sorry for you when I realized that you announced your adoration for Emily right before her unfortunate demise. Oops! But, I know where you're coming from, and you would've been welcome to take her home. I can't blame you. She was quite the hottie... not quite my type, but I'd definitely have to stare, especially at her hair. I _love_ red hair! I'm thrilled to hear that you enjoyed her complexity. I think that most people are that way, neither good nor evil, just motivated to action on both sides of the coin by various internal influences. I hope that you continue to think that the work is interesting. That's what I live to hear. Thanks, Dianatyne.

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Sev Lover: Patience, my young reviewer, patience. These things take time. Not to mention, in her current condition, well... Sev has his hang-ups, but necrophilia isn't one of them. See ya!

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Teenage Zombie: Aw! I have a way with plot twists? Really? That's so sweet! Thank you! I love twisty plots. They're so fun... like literary roller coasters! Hope this one doesn't disappoint!

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Queen of the Faeries: Hey, thanks for the good word on the flashbacks! I was extremely concerned about them at the beginning and debated using them at all, but they've gone over fairly well. Yay for me! I, as well, am not very interested in the Marauder's period, but it was necessary to delve into it for the sake of history. Yes. I agree that that was mean of Severus, but he felt the need to make a point... and made it quite clearly, I hope. At this point, Emily almost deserves what she gets. Okay, maybe not death, but well...

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Sesshomaru's Angel: Only seven more of what, dear? I didn't quite catch that. And, yes. I'll be continuing the Alex/Sev/Lucius stories after this, but I also have two others in my head that I'd like to get out. One is a Lucius ficlet which may turn into an actual story... depends on the response, and another is a Severus/OC. Hope to see you there, but if you're going to read the third Alex story when I start it, you may want to go back and read the first two first. Otherwise, the third will make very little sense. Thanks for the review!

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Captain Oblivious!: Ah, my epic reviewer, how goes it? So, I take it that you like Remus? Interesting. He'll be poking his head in and out of the story now that he's inserted himself into the plot, so I guess that's a good thing. You understand about Kingsley. Oh, thank goodness! I was so worried that you'd be mad at me! There's more coming up about him later. Yeah, Ron's a horrible little gremlin. I really, _really_ loathe that kid. The Loaf thinks that he should be my Kenny (from South Park) and I should kill him off in every story. Frankly, I think it's a hell of an idea and I might just do it.

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Emerald Sparrow: So glad you liked it. Thanks! And, I appreciate the good word on the flashbacks. I was worried that those wouldn't go over too well. I'm actually not a big fan of the Marauders, but I can definitely see what others see in them. I _do_ have a particular affinity for Remus, young or old. As a matter of fact, if you like Remus stories with a lot of history involving James and Sirius, may I humbly suggest a story called Wicked Games on a site called Chocolate Frog? It's probably the best Severus romance I've ever read. I, in fact, can't read it (which I do constantly) without using it to pick my own writing to pieces.


	19. Chapter Nineteen: Paradox

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Chapter Nineteen: Paradox

Ever after, Severus could recall nothing of the few minutes between the moment he fell to his knees beside Emily, covering her mouth with his, and the moment she began to cough up a frothy, pink mixture of blood and water. He'd been told that he went as pale as the body, that he alternately wept and cursed as he attempted to breathe his own life into her lungs and force her heart to beat once more.

But there was no memory of any of this, only the sweet moment when she spat and wretched and shivered violently... and, at long last, breathed. He lost consciousness after that - a long while with little sleep, grave injuries, and the general stress of the last two days finally catching up to him - and they levitated his body along with hers beyond the gates where they apparated back to Headquarters. There he slept for hours, finally waking to the sound of Lupin quietly reliving the experience for Dumbledore at the other end of the room.

Severus took a long look at Emily in the bed beside his, greatly comforted by the sight of her chest rising and falling steadily with deep, peaceful breaths. Madam Pomfrey (called in, he supposed, by Dumbledore) leaned over her with a look of concentration which read very plainly that her patient was recovering, but not yet well. He breathed a sigh of relief at the knowledge that Emily was in the best hands possible and rose to join the two men in the corner. Dumbledore immediately drew up a chair for him into which he collapsed wearily, glaring menacingly at Lupin, but content to listen to his explanation of what happened... until he could get the bastard alone.

"You were right all along, Severus," Lupin said by way of greeting. "She should most certainly be freed from Azkaban. I'm sorry I doubted your judgment." The look that passed between them was intense; Lupin, silently begging forgiveness for a hundred unmentioned slights and Severus giving him to know that he was not now, nor would he _ever_ be forgiven. After a moment, Remus surrendered, severed the connection, and returned his gaze to Dumbledore. "If it were up to me, Headmaster, I'd award her the Order of Merlin. She is an incredibly brave woman."

"Would you care to stop blithering and explain to me how you managed to drown my charge?" Severus snapped as best he could. Irritably, he rubbed his temples. Gods, his head was splitting! One of the worst things about being this exhausted was a complete lack of ability to assert one's ferocity. All he wanted in the world, now that Emily was safe, was to rip the bloody werewolf's head from his shoulders, but doubted he could manage to even give him a good hexing in his current state.

Lupin was only too happy to repeat the story, describing the activation of the third circle, the subsequent and terrifying attack of the giant squid and several hundred grindylows as they furiously tried to break through his ward while Emily worked feverishly to destroy the runes. Severus listened without much enthusiasm. Compared to the two other circles, this one sounded as though it ran like clockwork. It had been dispatched quickly, without any injury to either party. All he wanted to know was where the idiot had gone wrong, and he hadn't long to wait.

"That's when they struck," Lupin whispered dramatically.

"They?" Dumbledore prompted.

"The grindylows," Remus explained. "I only turned away from them for a second, looking for Emily, not caring to present my back to a murderer, when hundreds of grindylows grabbed me at once, dragging me into their nest. They squeezed my wrist until I dropped my wand and had already begun to scratch me to pieces."

Severus narrowed his eyes as he considered Lupin carefully. Something wasn't right, here. He kept silent, though, listening intently as Remus continued.

"I was weak, far too weak from the effort of holding the ward, the gillyweed was fading... _It was over for me_." He leaned in conspiratorially. "Now, this is the part where the Death Eater and murderer escapes to the surface and leaves her captor to die. Am I right?"

Dumbledore nodded once, a slight creasing of his brow the only indication that he was impatient for him to continue.

"But, she didn't," Remus said, his voice full of wonder. "She swam down, fighting off the ten or so grindylows that tried to grab her, snatched my wand from the weeds, and began attacking them."

Snape sat up a bit straighter in his chair, studying Remus like a cauldronful of complex ingredients. Was it his paranoia or had he just heard Remus tell an outright lie to the Headmaster? He listened carefully as the story progressed, and in the next few sentences was convinced that he was not imagining things.

"I'm not sure what she used, really," Remus continued, totally unaware of Snape's careful scrutiny, "I was too stunned to pay close attention, but it caused quite a stir. Most of them darted for cover, but at least a dozen were still dragging me back. And honestly, I couldn't fight them." Ignoring Snape's snort of derision, he continued. "Oh, I tried. I broke a few fingers and bruised a few faces, but for the most part, I was still helpless, and she wouldn't burn the ones holding me for fear of injuring me further, if you can believe it. In the end, she resorted to _pulling_ me away, breaking fingers and putting out their eyes with my wand as she did. I've never seen anything quite so ferocious. It was that ferocity that drove the rest away, I think."

He stopped, took a deep breath and a sip of tea before continuing. "That was when I noticed that her viciousness was born of desperation. Her gillyweed had completely worn off; she must've consumed less than I. Finally assured of my safety, she started struggling for the surface." He turned to Severus, then, with eyes that spoke of deep regret. "I tried to get her there, Severus. Truly, I did, but she was fighting me so violently I couldn't get a grip on her to help her swim and soon she just went rigid, shuddered a few times and..." he ran a hand through wildly disheveled hair. "Gods, Severus, I've never felt so..."

"Spare me," Snape hissed. "I've heard quite enough of your overly-emotional diatribe for one day."

"While I disagree with the spirit in which it was said," Dumbledore cut in, giving Severus a meaningful glance, "I must agree that I am exhausted from the sheer intensity of the tale... and perplexed, as well. It would seem that, once again, Miss Grey presents us with a paradox, and I'm not quite certain what I should do about it."

"See that she's released, Headmaster," Lupin said eagerly. "And, for Merlin's sake, get the truth about what happened with her brother. There has to be something more there, something we're missing. Have her appear before the Wizengamot again and give a testimony under Veritaserum..."

"She will never submit to that," Severus interrupted sternly. "Believe me, I've approached the subject several times, and she refuses to even discuss it. She's hiding something," he said simply, glancing over to her bed with a thoughtful expression. "For good or ill, she's hiding something about that night, and whatever the secret is, it means enough to her that she was willing to sacrifice her entire life to protect it."

"Remarkable," Lupin breathed with a shake of his head. "That woman has to be the most Gryffindorish Slytherin I've ever encountered."

"Alright, that's just disgusting," Emily cut in blearily from across the room, "and I'm going to have to insist..." she paused for breath, still quite clearly unwell... "that you take it back," she added, struggling to sit up.

Three heads turned at once, but Remus reached her first, a deeply-etched line of concern between his soft, brown eyes as he took her hand in his, whispering her name like a prayer.

For a long moment, she ignored him, opting instead to stare at Severus, a question in her eyes. He read it as clearly as if she had spoken aloud. _Have you forgiven me?_ He answered the query with a small, secret smile, just for the two of them, and she returned it almost shyly, with a tiny sigh of relief.

"If you're so happy with me," she croaked, turning her attention to Lupin, "why is it that all I hear are insults?"

He chuckled lightly, clearly relieved at her humor. "A thousand pardons, madam. I meant it as the highest praise."

"Comparing a Slytherin to a Gryffindor is never a compliment, Remus Lupin."

There was an awkward pause, then, as he seemed to search for words.

"What?" she whined with a small laugh. "Stop staring at me."

"I simply don't know what to say, Emily," he began uncomfortably. "I don't know how to thank you."

"Well, you'd better damn well try." The sentence tapered to a choked laugh that ended in a violent coughing fit.

"I owe you my life," he returned soberly, passing her a soothing potion from the nightstand. "There's no way I can ever repay that debt to you."

"I'll take monthly installments of gifts and humble worship, if you insist on trying." She shook her head as he laughed uncomfortably. "I tried to warn you, you stubborn pain in the..."

"I know," he interrupted gently. "You did warn me, and you went down there under protest, but I was certain that... Well, that hardly matters now, but... I'm so terribly sorry, Emily."

She smiled and shook her head wearily. "Don't be," she said with a great sigh. "I'm just being grumpy. You did really well, actually. As much as it pains me to admit it, that was the easiest one so far... except for the drowning bit."

He nodded slowly, playing with the fingers on her hand, thoroughly preoccupied.

Emily finally broke the silence. "What is it, Lupin?" she asked wearily.

After a long pause, he finally lifted his gaze back to hers. "I don't understand," he began slowly.

"Why I helped you?"

He nodded. "To be honest, I've spent a great deal of mental energy searching for your ulterior motive, but nothing makes a modicum of sense." He smoothed a lock of hair from her face, and Severus bristled at the casual touch. "You knew the magic was failing, that you were risking your life. It doesn't seem like..." He stopped short, coloring slightly as he searched for words.

"Something a cold-blooded killer would do?" she finished flatly.

He had the grace to blush violently at the blatant honesty. "Well... for lack of a more delicate way to put it... yes."

She shifted uncomfortably, searching her hands carefully as if for an answer, then chuckled. "Seemed like an interesting way to commit suicide."

"Emily," Dumbledore broke in gravely from the other side of the bed, "there seems to be a great deal of disparity in your actions, yet you refuse, even to your own detriment, to offer any explanation for the incongruity."

Her face fell slowly and grim eyes darted to the brooding figure at the end of the bed. "Are you alright, Sev?" she asked softly.

"Miss Grey," Dumbledore said curtly, just as quietly as before, but with a distinct air of authority. "I am not accustomed to being ignored."

She sighed irritably before returning her attention to the aged wizard. "I know where you're going with this, sir," she said, "and it's out of the question. I will not suffer through another trial." She picked up her glass again and brought it to her lips. "I have nothing more to say now than I did then," she mumbled, almost apologetically, taking a long pull from her cup.

"And your silence is worth a lifetime of unhappiness?" he inquired sadly. "You're certain?"

She ignored the question entirely, focusing on draining the cup in her hands, and Dumbledore sighed deeply, glancing at Severus as if blaming him personally for her stubbornness. Snape smirked. _Ah, now you see what I've been coping with._

"I am nearly convinced that a mistake was made sixteen years ago, that you're not a murderer, Emily," Albus continued gently. "You do not deserve to live as one... especially after this. But, I can only do so much for you. As Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot, I can see that you're freed, but you'll never be anything more to the rest of the world than a sixteen-year-old headline."

"You're wrong, sir," she cut in flatly. "I _am_ a murderer, and you'd do well to remember that."

She spoke to Dumbledore, but her eyes never left Snape. He lowered his own gaze, cutting her off completely. A great yawn escaped her as the potion began to work its magic on her injured lungs and she sank down further under the covers.

"Alright, that's quite enough," Madam Pomfrey said, shooing the men from the bedside. "Whatever she may be, she needs her rest if she's going to heal."

Dumbledore nodded once, a strange smile playing around the corners of his mouth as he glanced at Severus and Emily in turn. "Remus and I still have some unfinished business to attend to," he said firmly, clearly referring to Lupin's attempt to take over Snape's assignment. Severus smiled grimly. Dumbledore knew how to lay the guilt on with a trowel when he needed to. It wasn't even close to the punishment Remus deserved... but it was a satisfying start. "And I'm certain that Madam Pomfrey would like to return to her family," the elder wizard continued.

He turned to the witch with a warm smile. "Thank you for coming, Poppy. Your expertise was invaluable, as always."

He allowed her to usher him toward the door, a gentle hand on his elbow. "I did very little here, Albus," she insisted. "It was Professor Snape who saved the girl."

Snape's sharp ears caught his whispered words as he closed the door behind him. "He's the only one who truly can, Poppy." It unnerved and pleased him at once. After all, it was a daunting task to help someone who didn't wish to be helped, but Albus' quiet, persistent faith in him was all the reason he needed to make the attempt.

The house was silent as they made their way toward the kitchens, but as they came to the base of the stairs, the door burst open with enthusiasm, spilling an ocean of red into the hall. Severus scowled. _The Weasleys_, he sneered silently,_ and look, they've brought their pet celebrity. What joy is mine_.

Their excited chatter, which thankfully was permitted now as the portrait of Miss Black had finally been removed, stopped abruptly as they saw the four others on the landing. Mr. Weasley stepped forward, his face shadowed with sudden concern.

"What's happened?" he asked tightly.

"It's alright, Arthur," Dumbledore said calmly. "We've just had a bit of a mishap. I'll explain everything later."

He then began greeting everyone in turn, Potter last of all and (Severus noticed, with a deep scowl) the most warmly. Harry, to Snape's great delight, did not return the man's warmth, but stood back a bit and smiled a not-so-convincing little smile before turning to his old teacher with a genuinely happy greeting. _Not too noble for a bit of old-fashioned bitterness, are we, Mr. Potter?_ Snape thought, with a smirk. _After all the man's done for you... Petty little cretin, just like your father._

Dumbledore took the snub in stride, ushering the chattering throng in to the kitchen as Severus turned to leave. Lupin stepped back from the crowd, whispering something in Harry's ear and giving him a friendly pat on the shoulder as he followed the others, sparing a second for a suspicious glance at Snape before disappearing into the other room.

Lupin, for his part, returned to Severus with a nervous glance at the kitchen door and motioned him into the room across the hall. The potions master followed without a word, already anticipating the subject of this clandestine conversation.

When the door was firmly shut and warded, Lupin turned to him and opened his mouth to speak, but Severus cut him off sharply. "Revising your tale, Lupin?" he murmured.

Remus scowled darkly. "Was it that obvious?"

Severus merely raised a black eyebrow, waiting for him to get on with it.

"I plan to return this to her, but first I wanted to have a word with you about it."

Severus tried to look unconcerned, but those words struck fear into his heart. _Return **what** to her?_

"And I assumed," Remus continued, "that you wouldn't appreciate Dumbledore knowing what she really used to save me." From his pocket, Remus produced a thick, black wand, entwined with silver and embedded with glittering onyx chips.

For an instant, he reacted, appalled that he hadn't anticipated her procuring another weapon, then forced his features into a mask of indifference. Sliding the wand from Lupin's fingers was like taking the hand of Voldemort himself. It was cold, for one, far too cold for having been hidden in the pocket of a robe for several hours. And, there was a discordant feel to it, not quite an item of pure evil, but the potential was most certainly there... _just like Emily_, he thought bitterly. _What other secrets is she hiding_?

"I don't blame you for supplying her with a wand, Severus. I see now that you were right to do so, but..." He reached out to press one of the onyx stones near the handle and a short, thin blade coated with some sickly-sweet-smelling substance, which Snape's well-trained nose immediately identified as poison, shot from the end, turning the wand into a long dagger. "You do realize that these are illegal, don't you? Had she been caught with it..."

Snape's eyes narrowed dangerously. It didn't bother him too badly, taking the credit for buying her a wand of this nature, but to receive a lecture about it from Remus-Bloody-Lupin... "That is none of your concern," he said flatly, pressing the stone to sheath the blade once more. "She chose her own weapon. I merely paid the bill."

Smoothly, he flipped the wand about and returned it to Lupin, handle first, with a curt nod. "Make certain it's returned to her quickly," he said shortly. "And make certain that she's well-rested when I return to collect her tomorrow evening."

Lupin shook his head in frustration and turned to leave. As his hand reached the doorknob, Severus spoke again. "And, Remus?" He turned, startled at the use of his given name, to eye the potions master carefully. "If you _ever_ place her in danger again..."

Snape let the unspoken threat hang in the air between them, and Lupin wisely left without further comment. As soon as he was gone, Severus allowed his mask to fall away and ran a hand through his hair, tangled his fingers where the black veil met the base of his skull and squeezed, effectively pulling it tightly enough to water his eyes. _Gods, she could've used this to kill me at any time last night!_

Yet, he had to have it returned to her. He couldn't be responsible for taking a weapon that the Dark Lord himself had given her, and he couldn't allow Lupin to keep it from her, either. Anything could happen, and if Voldemort caught her without it, he'd kill her. It was that simple.

But, why had she not told him? Only two possibilities presented themselves. It was either the simple matter of her not wanting him to take yet another weapon from her, or the vastly more complicated matter of trying to hide a tiny drop of deception in an ocean of treachery.

_Great Merlin, let it be the first... for both our sakes._

With a deep, shuddering breath, he leaned his head against the wall behind him and rested it there thoughtfully. A small smile curved his lips, then, against his will as he realized that part of his frustration lay in pure jealousy. It would seem that Emily's charm could influence anyone, even Voldemort. It wasn't the first time Snape had seen that wand. It came from the Dark Lord's private collection. Voldemort had a habit of collecting wands from his victims and in the few months he'd been back, had already gathered quite a few. This one was highly prized, as it had come from a worthy and dangerous wizard of Persian descent, killed only a few weeks prior when he refused to accept a generous offer of alliance between his vampire hunters and the Death Eaters. Severus had coveted the wand the first moment he saw it, but would never have dreamed of asking even to touch it.

Emily had somehow managed to procure it with the Dark Lord's blessing.

It seemed impossible to imagine that he would've rewarded her with such a prize if her loyalty was in any way in question. The conclusion he was forced to draw gave him pause... and sent a shiver down his spine.

Emily simply wasn't that gifted a charlatan. There was very little doubt in his mind that he was losing her to the Dark Lord... again.

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Author's Note: You guys are a peck of fun! I wouldn't do things like that if I didn't get such entertaining reactions out of you. Seriously, this has been a hellish week. Thanks for the laughs!

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Dianatyne: Okay. Okay. So, I didn't go through with it... but you knew that I wasn't going to, I'm sure. Sorry about the misinterpretation over your intentions with Emily. My straight friends tease me constantly about my inability to understand them and their purely platonic feelings toward attractive people of the same gender. I guess this was just another of my blunders. Sorry. Hope you weren't offended. (Escaped blushes violently) I thank you for your compliments on Lupin. There isn't much written about his character after Sirius' death, but I can see the demise of yet another close friend dealing a death's blow to his patience with Severus or anyone else associated with the Death Eaters. By the way, if you want a superbly-written piece of fiction about Lupin, try Wicked Games at Chocolate Frog. As I sympathize with oldness, having just had a rather significant birthday (No, I'm not telling you which one) last week, I will let you off the proverbial hook by telling you that the story if far from finished, and I will do my best to never kill Emily again.

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Sev lover: Thank you very much for your rather breathless review. I appreciate the fact that you like the way I portrayed Lupin. See my answer to Dianatyne's review for more information on that.

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Sesshomaru's Angel: I'm so glad that you like the story. I write fanfic merely for enjoyment and can't ask for more than the knowledge that someone has as much fun reading them as I have writing them, so thanks. Don't be in a mad rush to read the other fics as I won't be writing the third story until I finish this one, but it would please me to know whether you care for them at all, so don't hesitate to drop a line and let me know if either of them appealed to you. I can't answer your question about whether Lupin makes it through the rest of the tale. You'll just have to be patient and find out.

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Queen of the Faeries: Oh, I'm so sorry. Please don't do the wailing loudly thing. I hate to upset people! Here. See? She's okay. All healed up and making friends and everything. Don't be upset. I agree that ignorance is bliss, but you can take your fingers out of your ears, now. Everything's okay.

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Captain Oblivious!: Oh, that's perfect! You **have** to say that if I kill off Ron. Promise? I'm so glad that you know me well enough to know that I wouldn't kill Emily. After all, as you said, that sort of thing is reserved for Ron. You're right about 'poor Lupin.' Sev hated him to begin with, but if he doesn't watch his step now, he's liable to end up on the business end of Sev's wand... and who wants that? Okay. I wouldn't mind, but I'm kind of weird that way.

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Teenage Zombie: Ah, so you had a premonition, did you? That's kinda groovy. Your idea about Remus getting hurt and Emily being blamed for it actually never occurred to me, but now that I think about it, it's a pretty good idea. I promise you that Sev's "delicious cool" (great phrase, by the way) will be lost, just not yet.


	20. Chapter Twenty: A Burden Lifted

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Chapter Twenty: A Burden Lifted

Emily stared disconsolately at the wall, tapping her fingers restlessly on the blankets.

Where was Severus? She had fully expected him to return by now to take her back home. She didn't want to stay in this strange house with all these people she barely knew. And the presence of Dumbledore made her incredibly uncomfortable. He was a sucker for selfless acts of heroism, that much was certain, and her mysterious new penchant for performing them could be used to gain his trust if Voldemort wished it, but she truly hoped that he didn't.

All she wanted was to go home, sit down to a cup of tea and a game of chess, and talk things through with Severus. Maybe she could take the first steps to talking some sense into him. The Dark Lord adored Severus and he was _wasting_ it, wasting his life! Once it was discovered that he was a traitor... She shivered, unwilling to even think about it. There had to be a way to save him, and by Mab's dark heart, she _would_ find it.

A gentle knock interrupted her thoughts, and she called softly for the visitor to enter, certain that it was Severus come to rescue her at last. Her heart fell at the sight of Remus lingering shyly in the doorway.

"May I?" he asked kindly.

She nodded, giving him a tiny smile. _Yes, come in and tell me how much you owe me, then go away and leave me alone._

"How are you feeling?"

She sat up with a great deal more grace than before and gave a small stretch. "Bored to tears," was her honest answer. "Where's Severus?"

Immediately, she wished she hadn't said it; but, as it was all she could think about, she was bound to slip eventually. May as well do it now.

Remus looked away, obviously embarrassed. "He's gone home for the night. I thought you might like some company."

"I would," she admitted apologetically. "It was nice of you to come." She stared at her hands uncomfortably. "I'm sorry about dinner."

Remus chuckled, but Emily was truly humiliated over the situation. Dinner, a delicious-smelling stew that made her stomach rumble, had been sent up to her, courtesy of Remus, quite a while ago, but she'd been forced to send it back with her heartfelt apologies. It was beef stew and, as she hadn't touched meat since her early childhood, there was no way she could've eaten it even if she'd wanted to. Mrs. Weasley, exceedingly pleased with her for saving Lupin's life, had happily set about preparing vegetable soup and rice for her instead.

"Molly was happy to do it," Remus insisted. "The thought of anyone going hungry is utterly unacceptable to her. The woman was _born_ to be a mother."

"Yeah." Emily answered awkwardly. "She seems nice."

"Well, she's much more than that," he answered with touching sincerity.

_Ah_, Emily thought, _apparently, I'm not the only one she mothers_.

A long, awkward pause ensued.

"Why are you really here, Lupin?" she asked finally.

"You get right to the point, don't you?" He smiled sheepishly, refusing to look at her. "We got a bit sidetracked earlier, but I wouldn't mind having a serious answer to my question."

"And, what question was that?"

He eyed her levelly. "Why did you do it?"

She shrugged, pulling her knees to her chest. "One moment, I was watching them pull you into their nest. The next moment, I was... well, you know the rest, but there's your answer. I honestly have no idea."

"I think I do," he said quietly.

She snorted. "Well, please, by all means, enlighten me... because I'm feeling fairly - What was the word you used? - Gryffindorish? - and it's making me a little ill."

He took a deep breath and released it slowly. "I think that you're a much better person than you let on, Emily. I'd venture to say that you're a better person than you even realize. In fact, I think that, despite your most resolute intention, you're one of us... just like Severus, though I hate to admit it."

"I beg your pardon?"

He placed a hand companionably on her shoulder and looked at her gravely. "I'm dreadfully sorry to have to break this to you," he began, the ghost of a smile haunting his lips, "but you, Emily, are one of the good guys."

Emily groaned and rolled her eyes.

Ran a hand down her face as if trying to wipe it clean.

"You are clearly delusional, Lupin," she said sadly, shaking her head in mock sympathy.

"Oh, come on," he argued lightly. "There's no other explanation."

"There are _plenty_ of other explanations. We'll start with temporary insanity brought on by the stress of having to deal with you."

He chuckled. "Is it really that bad?"

"No. It's much worse. You've been in the room for ten minutes and I'm already feeling twitchy."

"Well, that doesn't make me nearly as nervous as it would if your wand was in your possession rather than in my pocket."

There was a brief pause in which the playfulness melted from her face. "Thank you, by the way," she said soberly.

He looked puzzled.

"For not telling Dumbledore about the wand," she continued.

"How did you know that?"

She rolled her eyes. "I was listening, of course."

"Ah, yes," he said easily. "Why am I not surprised?"

"Because you've accepted that I'm vastly more cunning than most?"

"Not difficult," he replied with a small smile. "You're brother also had a habit of hearing more than he should've. Of course, with him, it was because he didn't talk very much. That's certainly not the case with you, but... you're more alike than I thought."

Emily looked away, suddenly fascinated with the far wall. "Well, you would know. I think I saw you at my house more than any of his other friends combined, especially after we graduated."

He hung his head, suddenly speaking so softly that she had to strain to hear. "James and Sirius and I grew apart after school. The war made everything so damned complicated... even friendship. Each one of us thought the other guilty of the same offense... Turned out we had it all wrong in the end." He shook his head sadly, then waved his hand dismissively. "That's another story, but the point is that we began to trust each other less and less, until the suspicion finally drove us apart. Eric and I, on the other hand, had grown fairly close in the last year of school." Suddenly, he seemed nervous, fiddling with the edge of the blanket as he fairly stumbled over the next words. "We..." He stopped, sighed, tried again. "We found that we had something in common..." Finally, he was able to bring his eyes to hers as he spoke. "Something quite defining and fairly rare," he said softly.

Emily heard him, but the words didn't register until he turned his head away in frustration. Her gasp told him that she'd finally grasped his allusion, and he turned back to her, eyes alive with hope.

"You knew?" she breathed. "I had no id..." She stopped, thought about it, and shook her head lightly. "Come to think of it, Lupin. It explains rather a lot."

"Doesn't it?" he chuckled tensely.

"Yes. It does," she answered with a sweet smile, relieving the incredible tension in his face.

They fell silent for a little while, but this time it was much more companionable.

"There's another reason that I think you have a good soul," Remus finally said, a bit more heavily than before. She shifted slightly, turning to the side to better see him as they talked. "Do you remember the Order coming to your home... that night?"

Emily shook her head, staring blankly. It seemed that everything beyond the endless moment that she saw her brother shredded to pieces was a blur, a dark dream from someone else's head.

"I was the first one to reach you," Remus continued softly. "You were still holding his hand, covered in blood and... pieces. The look in your eyes, Emily," he faltered for a moment, shaking his head as he searched for the right words. "It was indescribable. You knew what you had done, and you _felt_ it, deep in your bones. Your soul was cut to pieces just as surely as his body. It was, in fact, my testimony about that, given in private on your brother's behalf, that saved you from a Dementor's Kiss."

"You should have let them do it," she whispered, tears pooling in her eyes, suddenly overwhelmed by memories she'd much rather not relive. Stubbornly, she blinked them back.

"I couldn't," he said simply. "I don't believe in it, for one. It's an obscenity, a form of punishment the Ministry should be ashamed to use. And, admittedly, I knew that your guilt would punish you more severely than anyone or any_thing_ else could. And, at the time, I thought that you deserved to be punished," he continued firmly. "But, now I'm not so sure."

"Well, you're wrong," she returned flatly.

"_Why_ am I wrong?" he asked heatedly. "What happened, Emily? Why did you kill him?"

For an eternity, she searched his face, weighing what he already knew, which was quite a lot, against what he didn't and considering how good it would feel to share the burden she carried with just one other human being. To his credit, he waited patiently, never taking his eyes from hers as she considered his request.

Finally, with a deep, steadying breath, she began to speak.

* * *

Almost twenty-four hours later, Severus Snape entered the house the Order called Headquarters, feeling much better about all that had transpired and ready, after two entire days without her, to have his Emily back in his life. Dumbledore and he had broken their fasts together that very morning and Severus had explained that Voldemort had summoned him to find out how his project at the school was progressing, that he'd been forced to tell him about Emily. It was a lamentable lie, but it explained why Voldemort would now know of Emily's freedom without revealing anything that had transpired on Solstice.

He also gave him a watered-down version of Kingsley's death so that someone would be able to inform his family. That had been considerably harder, watching the venerable wizard lose his composure enough to drop the scone he was slathering with jam and fold his hands in front of his bowed head as if in supplication. Snape had excused himself to the lavatory to give the man a moment to collect himself. When he returned, Dumbledore was sipping tea with a sort of resigned sadness that touched the potions master deeply. They had continued and concluded in a much more somber climate.

The rest of the day, Severus had spent returning their things to Hogwarts and considering all that Emily's rescue of a dying enemy could mean. Perhaps she'd lost the selfish arrogance that had dominated her throughout most of her life. Perhaps she was merely _hoping_ to die. He really couldn't wait to sit her down and talk things through.

_Without a doubt_, he thought, starting up the stairs, _it's time for my Emily to come home to me_.

That was when the first peal of laughter caught his ears. It was Emily's laugh, deep and rather husky for a woman, unmistakable. The other was harder to place, but he had his suspicions, and a sudden spike of jealous rage shot through him with such speed and power that he had to grab the railing to keep his feet. What the hell was that _beast_ doing alone with her in her chambers?

Not bothering to knock, his fury pushing aside all etiquette, Severus burst through the door, a savage tongue-lashing on his lips... but the sight of Emily stopped him cold.

"_By the gods_," he breathed, unaware that words had even escaped his lips.

She turned to face him and smiled the brilliant, dazzling smile that he knew so well. "Severus!" she cried happily, then turned a graceful pirouette before him. "What do you think?"

_What do I think?_ He tried to give his usual indifferent stare, but was unable to erase the hunger from his features. _I think I have half a mind to throw the werewolf out the door and ravage you until you scream_.

He swallowed thickly, eyeing the pile of new robes out of the corner of his eye, but never fully removing his gaze from her voluptuous form, silhouetted dangerously in a midnight blue robe. It revealed nothing of her flesh, cut high on her neck and long in the hem, but a more sensual statement could not have been made had she stood before him in the nude. Sweet Merlin, had he truly forgotten what a beguiling creature she could be?

"You're looking well," he said. His carefully-measured tone revealed nothing, but every moment was a vicious fight to maintain his composure.

"Oh, come on, Snape," Lupin broke in, still carrying two or three robes of various vivid tones across his arms like a valet, "Is that all you can say? She looks absolutely dazzling!"

Snape's gaze shifted, at last, from Emily to rest fully on Lupin. Added to the desire to throw him out was the sudden, urgent need to expose him to a few of his nastier curses. Lupin had obviously been in the room while Emily dressed, possibly helping her do so. And what the hell else had he been up to? Severus felt a vicious heat that had nothing to do with shame spread across his face at the thought of Lupin's hands on his...

_Except that she's not yours, Severus_, a reasonable voice in the back of his mind stated flatly. _She's a grown woman, quite free of romantic obligation, and has the right to see whom she chooses_.

Coldly, he silenced the intruding voice and made a conscious decision to change that situation just as soon as humanly possible. Lupin took a prudent step back at the dangerous look in the potion master's black eyes as he crossed his arms over his chest.

"It's alright, Remus," Emily said laughingly, oblivious of the silent exchange between the two men.

_Remus?_ Severus seethed. When the hell had he become _Remus_?

"For Sev, that's really high praise," she finished.

"We've been shopping," Lupin said brightly, trying desperately to look away, but Snape's glare held him fast, communicating in no uncertain terms his feelings about the situation.

"So I gleaned," he said softly.

"It never occurred to me that my gold would be sitting in Gringotts, just waiting for me to gather it back into my loving hands," Emily said, bouncing on her toes as she did when excited.

Lupin laughed at her enthusiasm, "She was quite thrilled to discover that she was still wealthy beyond description. I don't know what she assumed would happen to her family's money."

"I told you, I just didn't think about it."

"Silly girl," Severus said softly, moving closer and bringing a hand to caress her cheek - glancing, for just a moment, at Lupin - making an unmistakable assertion. "That is ever your folly."

Just as he hoped, she melted at his touch, falling helplessly into fathomless pools of black. "I'm working on that," she managed, her voice barely a whisper.

"One can only hope," he returned with the customary smirk that served as his smile. "These are lovely, Emily," he added, indicating the robes on the bed with a small nod.

"I'll just leave you two to finish packing," Remus said awkwardly, slipping toward the door.

"Remus Lupin, get back here!" Emily called to his retreating form. Pulling away from Severus' hand, she rounded his form to meet Remus at the door and, with no overture whatsoever, threw herself into his arms. For a while, they remained locked together, Lupin smoothing his hands over her strong back and whispering the gods knew what into her ear, but at last she backed away, a rush of pleased color on her cheeks. "Thank you, Remus," she said sincerely. "For everything. This has been amazing. I really appreciate it."

He returned her smile warmly. "I'll see you soon?" he asked hopefully.

"Count on it."

With a final nod, he passed through the door and closed it firmly behind him, leaving Emily and Severus alone at last.

* * *

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Sesshomaru's Angel: I'm happy that you've found someone to beta your story. Good for you.

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Captain Oblivious!: Good, then we have an agreement about the Ron thing. Hurray! Sheesh! You and your first priority. I like Remus in the powerful wizard / really nice guy role.. And, what do mean 'wimpy'? He handles the water circle with great finesse. How's that wimpy? Oh, I get it. Sev's POV. Yeah. That makes sense. Severus is still my baby. "You understand, don't you?" she asks, handing the Captain a fresh-baked muffin. "Of course you do." That's a good reader. It's amazing how I can just pass right over the whole Sev is greasy thing, isn't it? I guess I have my own interpretation of that based on how cruel kids can be and how a reputation can be gained whether it is deserved or not... particularly if that person is as mean as Sev tends to be. Complete and total bull$#, I know, but somehow that's the way my stubborn mind has always seen it. My brain is fixated on Alan Rickman (drool!) as Severus, and he is 100 Grade A hottie. So, you think Sev can save Emily, eh? It's within the realm of possibility, I suppose. All I can hope is that you stick around to find out.

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Teenage Zombie: All hail Sibyll! (Am I the only one who really liked her character?) I remain impressed with your gift. As for your premonition that Lupin may be a bit taken with Emily... hmmm... can't get into that just yet. Sorry. By the way, that's a hell of a postulation you have going on there! Talk about detailed! Severus saves his cool loosage (yeah, that's a word!) for rare occasion, but he's not above it. He's already gotten a bit warm under the collar with Emily. He'll lose it. It's just a matter of time.

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Sev lover: Yeah. I'm the Queen of Looseendland... and most of them aren't even intentional! How pathetic is that?


	21. Chapter TwentyOne: Ogre's Choice

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Chapter Twenty-One: Ogre's Choice

It's no good trying to fool yourself about love. You can't fall into it like a soft job, without dirtying up your hands. It takes muscle and guts. And if you can't bear the thought of messing up your nice, clean soul, you'd better give up on the whole idea of life, and become a saint. Because you'll never make it as a human being.

- John Osborne -

Severus watched her carefully as she unpacked, humming a merry tune as she pulled robe after colorful robe out of her magically enlarged traveling trunk. After those, came bottles of ridiculously expensive hair potions, perfumed oils, ribbons, shoes, satin and silk nightclothes, and finally, a Firebolt broomstick.

Severus rolled his eyes. A broomstick. For a woman whose allegiance was as tenuous as hers. _Brilliant, Lupin_, he bristled, _absolutely brilliant. Make my task a little more difficult, will you_? _Soon, Lupin - very soon, indeed, if you fail to keep your wolf's paws off of my charge - we are going to have a very long discussion._

After storing the Firebolt in her wardrobe with a fond smile, she turned with a start of surprise that cut off her humming, leaving the room unnaturally still.

"Severus," she gasped. "I thought you were seeing to dinner."

"It's waiting for us," he returned quietly.

She smiled broadly. "Good. I've missed eating with you."

"Have you?" he asked simply, lending his arm to escort her to the office where they normally dined, only tonight dinner was set on a small dining table by the fire and a bottle of champagne chilled beside that. Emily let out a small "oh" when she spotted it.

Severus said nothing at all, merely opened the bottle with a tight pop and filled two flutes with the sparkling, bubbling liquid. Handing one to Emily with a nod, he raised his own slightly and pronounced, "To you, Lady Grey, and whatever the future may hold for you."

A hint of pink spread through her cheeks as she giggled at his uncustomary formality, but years of training raised her hand slightly and tipped her glass in his direction before taking a delicate sip. He followed suit, then slid wordlessly into his chair.

"Thank you, Severus," she said quietly, sitting opposite him. "To be honest, I wasn't quite sure what to expect from you after..."

He inclined his head slightly. "Perfectly understandable. Truthfully, I am quite pleased to have you to myself again," he admitted with a crooked smile that never failed to bring a blush to her cheek. To his great delight, it worked. She hung her head to hide the telltale glow, but it was there. "For two days, I've wished to speak with you at length about... recent occurrences, and for an agonizing moment, I thought I might never get the opportunity." A deepening blush followed by a coy turn of the head, obscenely timid gestures for one such as Emily, drew a black eyebrow to it's greatest height and kept it there for a moment. "Much was made clear to me in that moment," he added, "much that I should like to discuss with you."

He intended to continue, but she spoke first. "I never got a chance to thank you, Severus, for... what you did. I wanted to, but with Dumbledore there, I didn't know how much I could say."

He waved the concept away. "I'm not the one who risked my life."

"Oh, that," she said casually, shaking her head as she cut a tomato into manageable slices. "I wish everyone would just stop talking about it. I made a miscalculation and nearly drowned myself. It's nothing to be proud of," she said sheepishly.

"I do feel partially responsible for that," he said, causing a look of confusion on his dinner companion's face. "Had you had a wand, you would likely have fared much better." His breath hitched just slightly, knowing that he'd given her the perfect opportunity to tell him about the weapon which was undoubtedly hidden in her robes even now.

She hesitated, an almost guilty expression on her face, obviously considering it, then dashed all of his hopes to pieces. "You did what you thought you had to do, Severus," she said with a shrug. "I don't really blame you, but I wish you hadn't broken it. I really liked it."

Damn it, she'd hardly batted an eye. And while it hadn't exactly been a lie, it was a far cry from the truth. For a long moment, Snape sat in silence, almost frightened of the implications. An instant later, he'd hardened his mind and heart. All of his adult life, people had feared him... and for good reason. Damned if he'd be double-crossed by this slip of a titian-haired Death Eater.

Ever-so-slowly, he reached into his sleeve, watching her as she refilled her glass, wholly oblivious. In an instant, he had summoned her wand from a cleverly-hidden pocket in her skirts, and caught it neatly as her head shot up, eyes wide with shock. Holding the wand aloft for her to see, he allowed his face to lose all expression before he spoke.

"It isn't so much the fact that you lied to me that disturbs me, Emily. I'm actually becoming quite accustomed to it," he said casually, twirling the wand in deft fingers. "It's the fact that you obviously think me so great a fool. Do you truly believe that there is anything you can hide that I will not eventually discover?"

She was already shaking her head. "I don't think you're a fool, Severus. I just knew that you were angry, and I didn't want to lose another wand to you... especially not that one."

"I know this wand; I saw it's former owner die at the Dark Lord's feet," he said calmly. "Perhaps you'd care to tell me how you came to possess it?"

She shrugged. "He gave it to me."

Snape smiled, a brief, mocking curve of the lips. "I see. He simply... gave it to you? How uncharacteristically generous."

Her eyes narrowed at the sardonic tone, and abruptly she pushed her plate to the side, focusing her full attention on him. "Why don't you just skip the sarcasm, Severus, and tell me exactly what it is I'm being accused of?"

"Nothing, as yet," he responded soberly. "But the Dark Lord does not easily part with his trophies. He would not give this to anyone he was not fully convinced was his own."

"So, I convinced him."

He leaned in, making certain that her gaze was locked to his. "You haven't the skill," he whispered.

Emily sat back with an angry huff and crossed her arms over her chest. "So, I'm forced to ask again: What are you accusing me of?"

"Nothing," he repeated quietly, pocketing the wand and folding his hands on the table. "But, I am in a rather disconcerting position, Emily, and you know far more about that position than you should." Her eyes went wide and flew to his own wand, resting within easy reach on the table. "I'm not going to Obliviate you," he assured her calmly, "though I certainly should. I am merely asking you where your loyalties lie... and if I feel that you're not telling me the truth, I will force it from you."

To his great relief, the panic faded from her eyes. She reached across the table slowly, allowing him to watch her hand carefully, and entwined her fingers with his. "Thank you, Sev... for just asking."

He nodded once, quite content to wait patiently for her to continue. "Severus, the Dark Lord is going to win this war," she said with firm conviction, "and anyone who stands in his way is going to die. I don't fear death; I doubt that you do, either. But I do fear what he will do to those who betray him, and if you had any sense at all..." She shook her head, unwilling to finish the thought. "You ask me where my loyalties lie, Sev? They lie with you, so maybe you need to consider _your_ loyalties, because they're creating a very bleak future for you... and anyone who stands by your side."

All warmth fled from him as he contemplated what she was saying, hardly believing his own ears. By the gods, had she really matured so little in sixteen years? She opened her mouth to continue, and he released her hand to hold up his own.

"Stop," he said firmly. "I've heard quite enough." With a great sigh, he sat back in his chair, eyeing her angrily. "I will not be held responsible for your choices. Your future is your own, your fate rests in your hands. I have granted you a certain measure of clemency for your lengthy captivity, but I am finished with this. I have responsibilities which are far more imperative than playing father to a grown woman. It is well past time for you to _grow up_. "

Emily's eyes grew wide and her jaw slack as he spoke, obviously not expecting such a stern answer, but there was no help for it. She simply had to start thinking on her own, to take some responsibility for her own actions.

Finally, she closed her mouth, squared her shoulders, and cleared her throat to speak. "I don't really know what to say to that, Sev."

"Just tell me that you understand, and that you will make a decision... on your own," he emphasized, leaning forward once more. "You have every right to choose your own master, your own agenda. The Order would likely welcome you with open arms after saving Lupin's life. I doubt that you'd be given any sensitive information until they learned to trust you, but you _would_ have the backing of some of the most powerful wizards in the world. If you choose to remain loyal to the Dark Lord, I will not stand in your way this time. In fact..." Severus presented her wand, handle first, "I will even return this to you."

She took the wand warily, with a hand that trembled slightly, and replaced it... this time in the sheath at her hip, then gave him a tiny, hopeful smile. It faded, though, as Severus placed a long finger under her chin locking her gaze with his. Obsidian eyes glittered dangerously in the firelight as he studied her intently.

"I care a great deal for you, Emily Grey, and I suspect that, on some level, you are as trustworthy as I always hoped, but..." She tensed. "I have had quite enough," he asserted in his softest voice. "If you choose to return to the Dark Lord, I will not stop you. You _will_ be making an enemy of me, but no matter what you decide, it would be wise to be wholly forthcoming in the future. I hasten to caution you, so that there is no misunderstanding between us, that if you cross me once more, there won't be enough left of you to consider a threat. It would break my heart to take your life, even in anger, but _do not_ make the mistake of thinking me too sentimental to do so."

* * *

Emily sat curled in her chair by the hearth, staring into the dying fire and contemplating Sev's words. Briefly, she chuckled. Her concentration would be greatly aided if she could stop thinking about the firelight reflecting in his hair or the intensity in his lovely eyes as he threatened her life.

That was another thought that kept her from focusing solely on his words. Not two days had passed since she was thrown forward through oblivion to awaken beneath Severus who was, though he would likely never admit it, weeping bitterly over what he thought was her lifeless body, even as he breathed his own life into her - possibly the most intimate act she'd ever known. There was only a flash of this vision before he fell away, but the pain in his normally passive face would be etched into her soul forever. From weeping over her remains to threatening her life in such a short period of time. Remus was right. Along with all its other hardships, war really did make things ridiculously complicated.

Something interrupted her thoughts, then, catching her eye just as she looked away, something in the fire. Her attention immediately returned to the hearth. Someone was obviously looking in on her, likely attempting to...

Ah. Just there.

"Lucius," she whispered to the fair-haired man who had now appeared bodily in the hearth. Never one to be impolite to someone so powerful, she immediately gained her feet. "This is a surprise. Is something wrong?"

"Is Severus nearby?" he asked tensely.

"No. Should I go and collect him?"

A hand came through the flames, then, something it should not have been able to do, and she stepped back in panic at the intrusion.

"Stop," came the clipped command. She obeyed, more out of habit than logic. When Lucius Malfoy gave an order, it was wise to train oneself to obey without question. "Come," he added, in a tone which brooked no argument.

Not that she didn't make the foolish attempt. "I can't floo from here. There are wards."

"Take. My. Hand. _Now_."

The words were dangerously impatient, and with a shrug and a silent prayer to whatever power happened to be watching, she obeyed and was immediately yanked forward through the flames into a lavishly decorated sitting room. A quick glance around the room assured her that they were alone, and she released a breath she hadn't known she'd been holding, taking the moment to lower her head in deference to her master's most favored servant.

"Sit," he bit out.

She did so immediately, looking up into a face which was at once terrifying and fascinating: powerful, furious, and very, very beautiful. For an instant, she remembered the taste of his mouth as he kissed her at the Solstice celebration, then just as quickly pushed the thought aside. It did not do to allow one's thoughts to wander when dealing with such an obviously hazardous situation.

After a moment, he seemed to relax slightly and slid smoothly into a lush chair opposite her own, so close that their knees nearly touched; and, leaning forward, he began to speak.

"Have you been giving consideration to my question?"

"I never needed to consider it. I could've given you your answer the moment you asked," she returned, trying like hell to appear more collected than she felt. Whatever had made him this angry, she could only hope that it wasn't her. "I am ever my master's servant, Lucius. My devotion is to him alone, and for good reason."

He seemed pleased with her answer, for which she was immensely thankful. "Then, I may assume that the opportunity to aid our cause is your first priority?"

"Of course." This was intriguing: singled out by Lucius to perform an act of service merely two days after her return to the Death Eaters; a bit disturbing as well, but one couldn't be too selective where service to Voldemort was concerned.

"Then, you would be eager to remove any obstacle in our path?" he asked, with his most charming smile.

It was not a good sign. Nevertheless...

"Whatever my master needs of me."

He nodded, considering.

"Last night, I and a select group of our Lord's most favored moved against a family who has stood in our way for countless years, creating stumbling blocks, making things much more complicated than necessary. Our information was infallible. The family would be together for the first time in years for the entire night, creating the perfect opportunity to wipe out the entire faithless clan. But, when we moved to strike at the ordained time and place... the house was empty." These last words were growled with such ferocity that she reached for her wand unconsciously. He saw the gesture and gave her a warning glance that caused her stomach to knot. With a nervous smile, she returned her hand to its place on her knee. "Not many others knew of our plan to attack," he continued, speaking with a quiet anger that frightened her more than his rage. "One, in particular, heard a mere reference to it that very morning when he was among us, speaking to our master... about you."

Her heart dropped. _Oh, no. Surely not_.

Her eyes must've betrayed her thoughts for Lucius merely sneered and sat back in his chair, inspecting his hands carefully as he shook his fair head. "Because of him, we will likely never have another opportunity to eliminate the entire Weasley clan. We shall have to go about the business of exterminating them one by one, a tedious and time-consuming task. And, the wizard who betrayed us is believed to be innocent of such treachery by all but those who know him best. One of us, it would seem, has a unique opportunity to aid our cause."

_And gain the favor of an immensely powerful wizard_, she added silently. _A rather sweet deal for me_.

But, could it not have been someone, _anyone_ other than Severus?

"Oh," Lucius cooed softly, sitting forward to take her hands in his, a gesture of comfort, but a stifling one, at best. Now, she was trapped and had nowhere to direct her gaze but his face, which was a scant few inches from her own. "I know. You love him," he whispered comfortingly, without even the slightest hint of the mockery she would have expected. "But, imagine, Emily, what I will do to him when he is found out... and that time is coming. The Dark Lord suspects, now, that there is a traitor within the ranks. He simply thinks too highly of Severus to doubt him, as yet. That will not last. He will be discovered, and he will be given to me for suitable punishment. Don't mistake me. I should like very much to see him suffer for years to come, but I find myself in the unfortunate position of needing to hurry his demise, for the sake of our cause. The destruction of the runic circles that you are undertaking is a dangerous business," he said slowly, drawing the last word out into a familiar hiss. "Accidents happen."

Her gaze had wandered to their hands as he spoke in an instinctive desire to hide the horror she knew must be reflected in her eyes, but a strong hand seized her chin and turned her eyes to his. "And, an accident will happen, Miss Grey... very soon, or I will force you to watch and even participate in his punishment." A cold thumb stroked her cheek with a feather-light touch. "Ultimately, you will be showing the man you love great mercy... something a traitor does not deserve, but as it will be mutually beneficial, I will allow it." The thumb which had been caressing her cheek moved now to trace her bottom lip, an inappropriately intimate gesture - carefully calculated. "Will you do this?"

There was no need to consider. As choices went, it was the proverbial Ogre's for Severus... just as she'd warned him. But he'd completely ignored her, choosing to concentrate instead on threatening her life should she choose what he damn well knew to be the wisest path. With a small sigh, she nodded, and the man before her tightened his grip on her chin, drawing a sharp hiss of pain.

"You know better than that," he bit out, his voice deceptively quiet. "Answer me."

A moment's pause. A deep breath as she remembered what she'd told Severus before: had she seen to her father's death herself, she could've made certain that it was quick and painless. Could she do anything less for the man she loved? A thick gulp to swallow the tears, and she was able to speak.

"Yes, Lucius. If Severus has to die, then I'll kill him myself. I'll have the perfect opportunity... tomorrow."

A slow, wicked grin spread across his face, then, as he closed the infinitesimal distance between them and sealed their agreement with a searing, malevolent kiss.

* * *

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Author's note: Wow! You guys have assumed so much from one little scene! I'm curious: What made the majority of you think that Remus is gay? My own answers are a bit short this time, I know, and the update is late. I am so sorry! I know I'm a big loser-head, but I honestly can hardly keep my eyes open tonight. I love you guys, though. After losing so many reviewers, I don't want my faithful story-time circle members to think that I've lost my heart for them. I haven't. You're all precious to me and I appreciate your kind words more than I can express. They keep me writing!

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Sesshomaru's Angel: So, you think Remus is gay, eh? Maybe, maybe not. We have a way to go before everything is discovered, so you'll have to hang out with me until the end to find out for certain. Thanks for reviewing Not For Sale, by the way. I'm glad that you enjoyed it. It'll be a little while before I start the third Alex story, but when I do, you'll be all caught up. I'll be glad to see you there.

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Sev Lover: So, here's what happens when you leave Sev and Em alone. Not very promising, is it? Truth be told, I'm a little worried about our 'happy couple'.

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Dianatyne: See, you're the only one who assumed that the thing they shared was lycanthropy. I would've thought that would've been everyone's first guess. Not that I'm telling what it is they have in common. The rest of the story is coming in due time. I'm so glad that you're still enjoying the story. I seem to have lost a ton of my reviewers, and that makes me really sad, so it's good to know that there are a few hangers-on who are still enjoying themselves. After all, that's one of the main reasons that I write.

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Captain Oblivious!: So, you're stuck like super glue, are you? You can't know how good it is to see that on the screen. I'm so depressed over my little lost reviewers! Pathetic, I know, but I can't help it. Hey! Remus is not wimpy, darn it! And, I have not said that he's gay... though that appears to be the general consensus. As I requested above, how's about a reason for that? I'm fascinated to know how you came to that conclusion. Not that I'm telling either way, not yet. Remus and Sirius painted the dorm orange? Freaky Deaky! I love the comparison you made to a Q&A session! That makes this even more fun. And, holy cow, how ironic was that story about the car and the irate sign? Of course, if someone parked on me, I'd be miffed, too. That's pretty funny! And, BTW, you make your reviews just as long as you please. I LOVE them!

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Teenage Zombie: Another vote for Remus being gay. At this point, I'm going to have to make him that way just because of popular theory! For now, though, their secret is safe with me. You may be right. You may be wrong. I'll fill you in later. For now, as I have requested from all of you who share this theory, tell me why you're so sure of this. I'm dying to know! Don't you dare step down from your position! You're still the seer among this group! What would I do without your divine vision? Emily is more or less back to normal, yes, and whether that's a good thing remains to be seen.

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emerald sparrow: You have not begun to see him jealous! Oooh... Baby spoiler! My bad! I will spill all the beans about Emily and Eric soon, I promise.

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Lady Jenilyn: Hi, sweetie! You know, I just adore your letters, but there's something special about being able to answer your reviews around the story-time circle. Have a muffin. Sorry about all of that British Lit. Yuck! You poor, poor dear! It's insane that I'm planning to continue my major in English/Lit when I return to school, yet I hate most classical work. Go figure. I guess I'm just a modern gal. Okay. This is what you need to do. Go to your professors and explain to them that I am dying to find out what happens next in your story, and if they don't ease up on the homework to facilitate your updating, I'm going to hex every one of them! Fanfiction MUST take priority! I'm so happy that you approve of Lupin's friendship with Emily. I can see those two getting on very well, and I don't even know why. I wasn't planning for them to click like this, but I'm relieved that they did. It makes the writing go much more smoothly. I wanted so much to have a subtle outer reaction playing against a shocked inner reaction when Severus saw Emily in her new robes, so I must've written that scene at least twenty times to get it right (assuming it _was_ right). Hearing that you liked it makes the work well worthwhile! I can actually see those similarities to which you refer between you and Remus, and I as well wish that he played a larger role in the books. Sigh. Maybe the next one. I, as well, got a BIG vibe in the shrieking shack scene! I don't think that Rowling (All hail the Goddess!) intended for them to come off as romantically involved, but they definitely did. And, good for them! I think they'd make a great couple! Admittedly, though, I always pair Remus with Severus in my head because of the Wicked Games story. Was that not just way beyond groovy? I think I may have to take a cue from you and see POA once more before it leaves the theatre. I'll go on Tuesday, my next day off. Want to fly down and see it with me? Popcorn's on me! I thought that your call for an update was hilarious considering that I had just gone online to post this when I received your review. So, is right away fast enough for you? Now, you have your update, get your butt in gear and update "Mirror of My Dreams," damn it! Don't make me get the whip!


	22. Chapter TwentyTwo: A Restless Night

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Chapter Twenty-Two: A Restless Night

An hour later, Severus entered the office to investigate a light which hadn't been burning when he turned in. Emily was there, sipping a cup of tea and staring disconsolately into space, her face swollen and red from a recent and apparently violent shedding of tears. Presently, she looked too tired even to cry. Her usually bright eyes were shadowed, the skin around them creased, and the cup in her hands seemed still, but the liquid inside vibrated, indicating a slight trembling of her hands.

Silently, he swept up beside her and seated himself on the sofa, drawing no reaction whatsoever from the distraught woman. A sharp smell assaulted his senses.

"Chai?" he asked quietly. She despised chai tea.

Emily shifted her gaze to the cup in her hands. "Had a foul taste in my mouth," she murmured.

"That should help," he murmured sarcastically. "Care to discuss it?"

A fresh welling of tears, then. She closed her eyes against them as her head moved almost imperceptibly from side to side.

_No_. Of course. What did he expect?

"Did I wound you so deeply?" he asked, almost regretting his strong words... almost, but not quite.

The teacup was placed slowly on the table before she turned to him and lay her head on his shoulder, a gesture which touched a part of him he'd thought dead until recently. Wrapping his arms about her, enfolding her in a protective embrace, he brushed her soft curls with his lips and rested his cheek on her head. "You need to sleep, Emily. We have another daunting task tomorrow."

Her body stiffened at that and strong hands tangled themselves in the thick linen of his nightshirt.

_Ah_._ I see_. "I wondered if it affected you," he whispered into her hair. "Such a close brush with death was certain to." He shifted slightly, pulling her closer to him, feeling very nearly complete as she nestled under his chin, her soft breath warming his throat. "I am not Lupin, Emily. I will not allow you to come to harm, not if it is within my power to protect you."

"I know."

He sighed deeply. "Perhaps a sleeping draught..."

"No," she broke in, a slight hint of panic in her voice as she pulled away to face him. "Please. Sixteen years of drug-induced stupor, then being drunk enough to fall into an obvious trap on Solstice... I'm not in a hurry to take leave of my senses."

He nodded once, pleased to hear that her carelessness had at least resulted in a lesson learned.

She rested her forehead on his, filling his nose with the scent of chai as she breathed. "But, could I stay with you, tonight?"

He was already pulling away when she elaborated. "Not like that," she assured him. "I just want to be close to you. Please?"

She gave him no time to consider, just brought her lips to his in a soft, lingering kiss that could only be interpreted as a gentle plea, and it was all the persuasion he needed. Breaking away slowly, he rose and presented his hand which she took with a nervous smile, allowing him to guide her to her feet. Once there, he returned her kiss, carefully, both hands framing her face in a soft caress.

"Come," he whispered into her mouth.

When they reached his chambers, he drew her to the bed and released her with another kiss, this one a mere feathering of his lips across hers. He left her, then, to settle herself as he rounded the bed and slipped in beside her. She wasted no time in curling her body against his, sliding an arm over his chest and resting her knee on his thigh.

"Sleep, now," he whispered as her head sank onto his shoulder. "It's almost over."

A drop of warm wetness landed on his shirt, then, and he frowned deeply at her silent melancholy. Unable to follow his own sage advice, hours after she fell asleep in his arms, he still stared into the inky blackness, his mind full of dark wonderings.

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"How is she?" Emily asked soberly.

Not a second had passed between stepping out of the floo and blurting out the question. Severus immediately set about grimly dusting off her robes, talking as he helped rid her of the soot.

"Far from well," he answered quietly. "And father gave her a sound kick this morning that I'm fairly certain broke her ribs."

Emily ground her teeth in fury. Snape senior had always mistreated Sadie, the resident house elf, but as the years wore on, she'd grown much less able to bear his brutality. A week ago, she'd taken a blow to the head that had addled her already diminished reason and compromised her ability to perform even the smallest chore. And, now, even as she was barely able to breathe through the pain, Severus had been forced to secure her to her little bed in the kitchen, keeping her down and out of the way for her own sake until reinforcements arrived.

"He won't be gone long. We'll have to be quick," Snape murmured over his shoulder as they dashed through the manor and out the back door.

Once there, he led the way through the garden to the base of the stairs that led into the back entrance of the kitchen. Leaning into her ear, he whispered, "Quietly, Em. She may be ancient, but she can still hear a quill fall in the next room."

Nodding grimly, she knelt in the dry earth and began to work. Severus stood over her as she carved the runes into the ground, letting off the occasional head of steam by pacing behind her. She tuned him out entirely, concentrating on her work. One wrongly-placed rune, one little slip and this could become very ugly.

When the work was done, she held out a hand to Severus into which he placed a small, green bottle filled with a sweet-smelling, viscous liquid. With a long, last look at her best friend, she began to infuse the runes with his potion.

A few minutes later, she rose and handed the bottle back to the budding potions master with a grim nod, and they headed back the way they'd come.

Once out of earshot, Emily placed a hand on Severus' bone-thin arm to halt his progress down the hall. He turned with an exasperated sigh, clearly wanting to finish what they had started.

"Severus, are you sure you want to do this?"

Coldly, he peeled her hand away from his arm. "Emily, that elf has cared for me since my infancy. I am as certain that I **do not want** to do this as I am that it must be done."

"But, this is..."

"Murder?" he interrupted, so quietly that she had to read the word on his lips. He shook his head before she could formulate an answer. "No, Em. This is mercy."

With that, he turned and strode to the kitchen, seemingly heedless of whether she followed.

She did, of course. Nothing had ever separated her from Severus. Nothing ever would, especially when he was so obviously in pain. But, this was... difficult, to say the least.

The arrival at the kitchen and the subsequent unbinding of the house elf, who was too pathetically weak even to see to her own release, was a blur. Only the moment when he asked her very kindly to walk out to the garden and bring in some mint did time begin to move at its proper pace once more.

"Sadie is happy to get mint for Master Snape," she rasped, barely able to keep her feet, her face twisting with the effort of taking breath.

"You're a good elf, Sadie," he murmured. "This house would fall to pieces without you."

"Young Master Snape is too kind to Sadie. His father would not be pleased," she warned.

A nerve in the side of his face twitched. "Let me worry about my father," he answered, his voice quiet even in anger. "You worry about collecting that mint."

The little elf managed a bow with a sharp hiss of pain before toddling out the door, smiling even through the agony at the thought of being allowed to continue working at last.

When she reached the steps, Emily seized Severus by the shoulder, trying to turn him away from the sight, but his eyes were riveted to the bent form of his house elf, making her way slowly to the place where the runes awaited. He shrugged her hand away, absently, seeming to need to bear witness to...

A red light flashed, a sharp gasp of surprise was heard, a tiny "oh" from the base of the stairs.

And, then she was gone - facedown in the soil, her miserable life utterly spent in an instant.

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Emily's eyes shot open, waking suddenly from the disturbing memory. The circle had worked perfectly, causing the little elf's heart to fail as soon as her foot crossed its borders. It was a quick, painless, untraceable death. It was also, Emily realized eventually, exactly what Severus claimed: a merciful end. Her fingers curled in the light dusting of hair on his chest, her hand having snaked under his shirt sometime during the night. It was a gesture of kindness to end a life so full of suffering, and today she would have the opportunity to do the same... on a much larger scale.

Just as it was then, it would have to be untraceable: an accident, a slip of the wand during the last stages of the next task. Just a few moments of suffering, depending upon the nature of the runes, and Severus would be out of danger. _My poor, sweet Severus, I'd give my soul for another way, but there's just no fighting the future._

"Did I not expressly instruct you to go to sleep?" Severus' voice, wide awake, rumbled suddenly from above her head.

After a start of surprise, she laughed quietly, raising up on an elbow to look at him. "Yes, you did," she whispered. "Am I being a bad girl?"

"You, my dear, have always been a bad girl," he returned softly, bestowing a sweet kiss on her brow. "It's one of your finer qualities. Now, go back to sleep."

"And, what about you, sir? Are you going to be sleeping sometime tonight?"

"It's possible."

"Well, is there anything I can do that might relax you?" she asked, playfully walking her fingers down his chest.

A quick hand captured her wrist. "Emily Grey, could you at least make an _attempt_ to behave yourself?"

"Oh, come on, Sev," she whispered wickedly, nuzzling his neck. "Aren't you even going to _try_ to seduce me into joining the Order?"

Sharply, he pulled away, propping up on an arm to eye her carefully. "Don't think it hasn't crossed my mind."

"I'm a terribly weak-willed woman, you know," she added with a wicked grin.

"Actually, Emily, you are not, much to my immense frustration."

She pulled her best pout, but it affected him not in the slightest. "Try someone with a soft heart," he quipped dryly. "Perhaps your new friend."

She groaned, sliding her head from its support, allowing it to fall back on the pillow. "Oh, I knew that was coming. I should think you'd be thrilled that I'd developed friendly relations within the Order."

"It makes no difference whatsoever to me." A brief hesitation, then, "The Dark Lord, however, would be most pleased to know that you'd tamed the wolf. It would place you one step closer to being in the same position I presently occupy. That would be more than enough to ensure your place of honor within his circle. Imagine if you told him _all_ that you know."

Her eyes narrowed. "Don't think it hasn't crossed my mind," she mimicked in a much less playful tone.

"So, is that what all of this will come to in the end, Emily? Must I do the unthinkable to keep you from betraying me, from betraying the Order?"

_I don't need to betray **you**. You're already found out._

"Because, if I must..."

"You've mentioned that," she snapped, thoroughly fed up with his threats. "I don't think I can abide listening to that speech again. I don't plan to throw my life away, Sev, and that includes letting you take it from me."

"Then, perhaps you should reconsider those thoughts that cross your mind."

"Severus, for Merlin's sake!" she snarled, sitting up entirely. "Don't you think I have? Do you not know me at all? I have considered and reconsidered, gone over the facts until my head spins with them. There's no escaping the future. No raggle-taggle band of do-gooders is going to bring down the Dark Lord. The very idea is absurd!" Severus curled to a sitting position, then to his knees, towering over her as he sat on his heels and regarded her with black brows raised in surprise at her outburst. "You're fighting a losing battle, Severus," she continued in pleading tones. "And, in the end it will all be for nothing. Not only will you have wasted your life, but you will have damned yourself to unimaginable torment. How can you be so stupid?" The last question was shouted, rather than spoken, and the walls echoed long after she'd finished speaking and settled herself to glaring at the potions master with an odd mix of fear and fury.

In a moment, she'd caught her breath and calmed herself somewhat. "I'm sorry, Sev," she continued repentantly. "But, I..." for an instant, she considered telling him that she loved him, but the words stuck in her throat. Instead, she gave a bitter huff of laughter. "I just can't convince myself to play to lose."

Severus studied her carefully, like a snake poised to strike, his head tilted slightly to the side as he considered her words. She had just enough time to wish she had her wand before he spoke, the chill in his voice sending a shiver down her spine. "Is that what this is to you, Miss Grey - a game?"

Slowly, he reached out to brush a lock of hair from her face, black eyes distantly studying her reaction. Ignoring her slight flinch at his touch, he traced a slow line down her cheek, under her jaw and came to rest at the base of her throat. There he allowed his hand to remain, the mere insinuation of a terrible threat. She closed her eyes, unable to meet his gaze.

For a moment, they remained unmoving as the unspoken warning breached the last of her emotional guard.

"Sev, please. That's not what I meant." The plea was strangled, terrified, forcing her to agree with his assessment. She hadn't a fraction of his skill at deception.

In time, she relaxed enough to open her eyes... and wish she hadn't. The barely-contained rage in his expression was enough to steal anyone's courage.

"This is anything but a game," came a seething whisper. "And if you think _for an instant_ that I am not aware of the precariousness of my position, that I will not do whatever I must to protect it, then I should say it is _you_ who does not know _me_."

Despite her strongest effort to keep them back, the tears began to fall, then. It was humiliating, really, that she couldn't be stronger, couldn't show him what she was made of. But, presently, it felt as though she was nothing more than the sum of her fears. "You demanded the truth, and I've given it to you," she managed. "I don't know what else to say, Severus. I know what your future will be. I see it in my darkest nightmares, and it terrifies me, but no amount of concern for you will convince me to share your fate."

Slowly, his expression changed from furious, to confused. Finally, a shadow of regret darkened his eyes. The fingers loosened slightly.

"Damn you!" he hissed into her face with a great deal more frustration than fury. "I did not drag you back from the brink of insanity and death to lose you to that creature_ again_!" There was a moment of deepest sorrow before his forehead touched hers and his hand left her throat to lightly brush the hair at her temple. "Emily, my love, what would you have me do to quiet your fears, to make you see the hope that exists even now?"

Her heart broke.

There was no help for it. To hear him utter those words on the very day that she was to... _Oh, gods_! The mere thought was enough to tear her to pieces.

"Tell me what you want, Emily," he whispered, his lips brushing hers as he spoke, an almost unbearable temptation. He would not say no to her tonight, not if he thought his body could accomplish what his words had not.

"I want you, Severus," she answered simply.

A small sigh from above as he moved to kiss her.

"But, not like this," she interjected, stopping him before he could begin, before she lost her ability to resist. Gods, just being so close to him in the wake of his power was enough to bring her to the edge of control. Presently, she wavered on that point, knowing that having his mouth on hers would send her screaming over the edge of reason, never to return. A hand came up to caress his face. "I know I'm going to regret this, but... we have a few hours before dawn. Maybe we should try and get some sleep."

With great effort, she smiled up at the man she loved, and tried to disguise the farewell in her eyes.

"Tomorrow's a big day."

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Elessar Evenstar: My long lost and adored reviewer. Oh, my goodness, it is _so_ good to hear from you! It's been ages. I missed you. And, yes. That was quite dramatic; never fear. So, you don't think she can kill Sevvie? Really? She didn't bat an eyelash at sucking Kingsley dry. Well, maybe a few. And, you hate Malfoy? Why? He's just being his usual, evil self. Okay, maybe not exactly the same guy as Malfoy in the Alex stories, but still... Actually, I think I can see where you're coming from. He _is_ being an evil bastard. Gods, I love him! Your compliments, as always, take my breath away and keep me returning to my keyboard. I had my beta reader shot for overlooking my typo. He tried to give me the 'But, we've been best friends for nine years' speech as I tied the blindfold and gave him a cigarette (even though he doesn't smoke), but I didn't budge. That's just inexcusable behavior! Honestly, good help is so hard to find! Hey, you hate and love me? Really? That's so groovy! I'm in heaven! And you really think I'll save Severus? My, my, you do have faith in my benevolence, don't you? You poor, poor dear! Escaped pats Elessar on the head and passes her a cup of mint tea. I must repeat myself: I missed you!

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arwen: Hi, sweetie! I missed you! I'm glad that you think Severus is in character and that you're enjoying the story. That's very important to me. I hope to hear from you again. Things just aren't the same without you. If not, I will content myself to know that you're out there somewhere, reading. That brings a smile to my face.

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Dianatyne: Unsettled, aghast, and overwrought, eh? Good for you for owning and using a thesaurus. That is such a rarity these days... and well-spoken women are such a turn-on. (Hides face and blushes) Sorry! Couldn't help myself! Anyhoo... I love the way you put your argument. I mean, what do I say to that? I can't stop giggling long enough to type. That was frickin' hilarious! Hope this update came quickly enough. Of course, we still don't know whether she's really gonna send him to sleep with the fishes. Try to sleep, sweetie. I'm old. I worry.

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Queen of the Faeries: Wow! I'm like WAY beyond flattered!!! Really. My story actually gave you something you've been waiting for? BLUSH! Thank you! Thankyouthankyouthankyou! I'm overwhelmed! That's just so... WOW! I can't even express how groovy that is! I could write for years and never get a compliment that touched me so deeply. Thank you. Passes over a plateful of fresh-baked muffins and the teapot.

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sev lover: It's sad, is it? And she can't kill Severus? Why ever not? Have a muffin and enlighten your curious author.

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1 Lonelyangel: I can't kill Severus? I pose the same question that I posed to sev lover, above: Why ever not? Oh, wait. You answered that. Never mind. So, he's everybody's favorite, is he? Well, I guess you're right about that. Still, I may just have to wax him. Sorry. Hang on with me and I promise you'll find out whether I do or don't in a chapter or two... or three. Wait a minute. The flask thing. That's brilliant! Nah. I think I'll just kill him... or not.

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Quietude: Hi, sweetie. Where the heck did you go? We were lonely without you! And stop being so darn busy! Stress is bad for you! You know, for some reason, I just LOVE the fact that you so despise Emily. To be honest, there are times (many, in fact) that I just want to punch her in the mouth. Spoiled rotten, whiny, power-hungry bitch. Actually, my love-hate relationship with her is frighteningly similar to my relationship with Severus. I've wanted to deck him on several occasions. Of course, he'd just hex me into next week if I tried, so there's no use in even entertaining the fantasy. I think you hit the nail on the head with Lupin. He is a bit naive, but more than anything I think that he, like me, just wants - even needs - to believe the best about people. I wondered if anyone would be pissed that she told Lupin about her brother before she told Severus. I should've known that it would be you; and I can definitely believe that you were shouting support when Severus raked her over the coals. You're so fun. Oh, and you hate Lucius, too. Got it. Duly noted. I will never think that you've abandoned me again, but don't be mad at me if I whine. I just get lonesome. Until next time: So long, and thanks for all the reviews!

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Captain Oblivious!: Ah, now you're getting it. See, I don't want you to know why Eric died just yet. I mean, hey, maybe she really killed him in cold blood. Maybe she didn't kill him at all. Maybe she's a narrow-minded bigot. Maybe he turned into a werewolf. Maybe he was prostitute for the Death Eaters. Maybe he wanted to be in their club and they turned him away. Just keep speculating, darn it. I'm not very good at maintaining mystery, so you have to lend me a hand. 'Kay? Please? Gay werewolves. Heh-heh. I knew you'd catch on! You're right in your assessment.. Emily is a self-absorbed, power-hungry, little wench. I think she has more in common with Lucius than with Severus, to be honest. Hmmm. They would make a nice couple. I wonder.... Luck with those midterms, Captain O. See you soon.

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Lady Jenilyn: Careful, there, my lady. Don't traumatize yourself. I need you to stick around and finish your story, so I don't go stir crazy wondering what will happen to Miriel. Oooh... Lucky girl. Your friend sounds hot. Can't blame you for the crush. "Queer Eye for the Straight Wizard?" You are too frickin' much! And, as to that, I'm not telling, yet. So there! Rasberries the lady Jen-Jen. I don't mean to toy with your emotions, I just... Oh, wait. Yeah I do. It's one the greatest joys of my life! Sorry about the Weasleys, but there are a few of them that I don't despise... not many, but a few. They're not out of the woods yet, though. Don't worry. I'm glad that Lucius seems ruthless in this story. I wanted him to be a lot more evil in this one. Still human, still possessed of more than a single dimention, but human nonetheless. How am I doing, there? I am so sorry that you lost your chapter! Gods, how incredibly frustrating is that? And after all that's happened to you lately! I hate that for you, BUT I have great faith that you will put together something equally spectacular, if not more so. That's my Jen-Jen. Now, get to work! (Sound of whip cracking in background)

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Teenage Zombie: Doubting that Remus is gay? Good. Just keep speculating. I'll let you know at some point whether you were right. Your relationships sound pretty complicated... and a little dangerous. Maybe you should stick with fiction. It might be a bit less hazardous. Cheers!


	23. Chapter TwentyThree: Mercy

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Chapter Twenty-Three: Mercy

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_There is not much that compares with waking to the soft warmth of a woman in your arms_, Severus thought. Marry that to the woman being the one you'd dreamed of being with since childhood and there was nothing he'd known so far that could even come close. Perhaps someday, when things were more secure, when he was much, _much_ more certain of the woman in question, he'd know what it was like to lie with her in the calm after the passionate storm of their love.

Until then, he could satisfy himself with this, the tiny murmurs and moans as she shifted in her sleep, the way her brow would knit as she dreamed of Merlin knew what. He'd been awake for quite some time now, just watching her face in the growing light of dawn, not daring to stir for fear that he should wake her and destroy the sweet spell in which they lay.

How was it that he, so long a maniacally solitary creature, had become almost desperately protective just moments after laying eyes on her once more? From the instant he'd spotted her wasted, filthy form shivering on the stone floor of her cell, he'd wanted nothing more than to gather her into his arms and protect her from anything that would ever harm her again, to give her warmth and comfort and the love that he had denied her all those years ago.

It was moot now, anyway, the argument that he wasn't good enough for her, that she would be marrying beneath her station. Presently, her family's name was much less respected than his own. Ironic, that they had each turned the reputations of their respective bloodlines around completely. He for the better and she for the worse.

She still wanted him, though. That had not changed in the slightest.

But, her damnable hunger for power, that was a concern. The Dark Lord and his faithful would be more than happy to allow her lusts to consume her once more, to drag her by her more base desires down a dark path to a bleak fortune she would regret for the rest of her days. For, no matter how terrible the Dark Lord's retribution, how horrid her death would be if she turned her back on him and was captured, living with the guilt of what she would be forced to do in his name would be far, far worse. How the devil had she managed to forget what she felt after her father's death? And, her brother's? And if it no longer affected her, then why would she not speak of it?

He sighed deeply, blowing a wisp of red hair across her face. It was a quandary, to be sure, one that would need to be addressed before he could trust himself to offer again what he had so foolishly offered only a few hours before. He had regretted the invitation the moment he'd alluded to it, but the words could not be taken back, and she knew precisely what they meant. Unfortunately, knowing him as well as she did, she also knew damn well _why_ he was offering. And, Slytherin though she was, she undoubtedly had no desire to offer up her virtue as a matter of manipulation, even one she had teasingly requested.

His thoughts stopped their incessant racing and backpedaled for a moment to the subject of her virginity. How in the name of Merlin had she reached her present age without ever having known a man? He'd grant her the sixteen years in Azkaban, but she'd been in her early twenties, a ripe and lovely young woman, when she was sentenced to life in prison. With all the attention she received from every man who had ever known her, it was a wonder she'd kept her purity to the age of consent, much less so far beyond it. For a moment, he allowed himself the fantasy that she couldn't bear to be with anyone but the man she loved, then pushed the thought aside with an ugly sneer. Emily had never been one to deny herself pleasure. When she wanted something, she procured it and damn the consequences. Her heart was a consideration that fell well below her base desires.

And, on the subject of cravings, when she'd told him that Malfoy had chosen her on Solstice because she was a virgin, it had sent a surge of pure lust through his suddenly very eager manhood. There were times since then that he'd had to walk away from her rather than allow himself to be tempted to take her for that reason alone. To break through that barrier of innocence, to have what no one else had desecrated, to take her virtue and keep the memory of it locked inside where it could be treasured and honored as it should, that was a longing which was rapidly becoming a dangerous need.

Nevertheless, he had only to remind himself of the mark on her arm and her loyalties to the creature who'd put it there to keep himself in check.

Suddenly, with a tiny, almost embarrassed, pop, two trays appeared at their respective bedsides. He had to give a quick grin. Liri never missed a trick.

Likely stirred by the scrumptious smell coming from the trays, Emily moaned softly, then awoke, blinking in the soft light filtering in through the window.

"Oh, yes," she sighed, stretching languidly, "I could definitely get used to waking in your arms." There was a brief flash of pain in her eyes, gone so quickly that he wondered if he'd imagined it.

"Could you?" he inquired, speaking in his softest voice, unwilling to disturb the intimacy of the moment.

"I certainly could." She smiled up at him. "And how long have you been awake?"

_Meaning: 'How long have you been staring at me_?' he thought with a hidden smirk.

"Quite some time," he returned. "I find that your company is vastly more tolerable when you're unconscious and didn't wish to waste the opportunity to enjoy it."

She gave a short huff of laughter before raising up on her elbows to deposit a sweet kiss on his cheek. "Flattery will get you whatever you want," she whispered in a tone which was far too sober for his comfort.

"What I want, presently, is to see you eat something," he replied dryly, pointedly ignoring her invitation, wishing that his body would follow his mind's example. When she offered no argument, he turned from her to make himself comfortable against the headboard.

"Breakfast in bed?" she asked skeptically. "I never would've imagined you were the type."

"I shudder to think that I am ever a wholly predictable man," he answered, waving the tray over his lap. "Now, eat your breakfast."

She released an indelicate snort of laughter. "Yes, Mummy."

"You need a mother, Emily," he replied bluntly, ignoring her look of surprised indignation. "But in the absence of said maternal figure, I will most assuredly be watching after you."

"And, why is that?" she asked, chuckling lightly as she turned to face him.

He didn't answer, merely faced her with a look that, years ago, would've answered the question for her, curious to know whether her ability to read in his face what he refused to say had faded entirely. To his immense satisfaction, the comprehension slowly dawned in her eyes as she realized that she did know. Indeed she'd known all along.

A soft smile spread across her features, as she reached up to brush from his eyes a lock of stray hair. "I love you, too," she answered softly.

So, she could still read him. Interesting. For a moment more he searched her eyes, seeming to reach into her very soul, then the gaze was softened by a slight quirk teasing the corner of his mouth. "Well. I never said _that_," he mumbled dryly, returning to his sausage.

An amiable conversation ensued shortly afterward, both of them desiring to lighten the solemnity that seemed to have fallen, and continued through breakfast until she excused herself to her own chambers to shower and dress, leaving him with an inexplicable sense of impending doom. Resolutely, he shook it off, attributing the discomfort to an unusual night followed by an equally unusual, if thoroughly pleasant, morning.

* * *

An overly-enthusiastic wind gusted across the torch-lined tower, threatening Emily's already precarious balance as the world swam about her head and her stomach offered up a violent, rolling protest. Severus strode carelessly to the edge to look over, but whirled about at her sharp objection. For a moment, he studied her with a frown, then allowed his features to relax into a disbelieving smirk.

"Merlin's beard, Emily, I had completely forgotten about your lamentable phobia."

"It's not a phobia," she argued stiffly, still frozen at the top of the stairs, unable to convince herself to move into the center where their task awaited them. "Anyone with a smattering of common sense would exercise caution when standing on one of the tallest towers of the school. Now, get away from there!" This last sentence was spoken with such panic that she blushed violently at the evidence of her terror.

In his typically deliberate manner, Severus made a point of closing the distance between himself and the low wall that encircled the tower with such nonchalance that he could've been taking a Sunday stroll across the grounds. Reaching the edge, he peered over. "This would be quite a dramatic way to end one's life," he said dryly. "If ever you feel suicidal again..."

"Not funny, Sev," she snapped. "_Please_, move away from there," she requested in a more reasonable tone. Why she was so concerned about his falling when it had the potential to suit her purpose perfectly was quite beyond her. Of course, with a simple levitation spell, the fall had no chance of being fatal. Still, the idea of Severus plummeting to his death tied her stomach into knots, and did not bode well for the completion of her task. With a deep breath, she steeled her heart and settled within her mind his inevitable demise.

"It has been a constant wonder to me," Severus said, making his way casually back to his companion, "this terror of heights when you are ever anxious to climb on a broomstick whenever circumstance allows. There is almost no possibility whatsoever of falling from this tower. A broomstick, however, offers no..."

"Unlike you, Severus Snape, I do not fall off of my broom every time the wind blows."

His eyes flashed dangerously. "Had the skill any merit whatsoever, I would have seen fit to master it. As it is, flying is the most preposterous, juvenile, and ostentatious method of travel I have ever known. For anyone to bother with it after passing the tests is wholly inappropriate. I wonder how many full grown witches and wizards ever consider how absurd they appear using a child's method of recreation to travel."

For a moment, her temper flared. Then, realizing the source of the tirade, she began to laugh.

"And, what, dare I ask, do you find so amusing?" he asked stiffly.

She stifled her merriment long enough to speak. "You will give any excuse you can find, housed in the most condescending, abstruse phrases you know to cover your insecurities whenever they present themselves. It's positively precious!" His chin raised a fraction. "Don't give me that look. I've just figured out why you've won every argument you've ever had. It's because no one understands a damn thing you're saying. There can be no logical recourse when one is totally confounded by the other's vocabulary."

A single eyebrow rose to its zenith, causing a slight tremor of alarm to race down her spine and weaken her legs, before Severus gave his answer. With a swift pivot, he turned back to the center of the tower, strode through the borders of the circle, and was immediately swallowed by a blaring red beam of light that shot toward the heavens like a beacon.

For a moment she was petrified, but concern for both their lives shook her from her brief stupor and brought her to her knees at the edge of the circle. She had completed the first rune by the time the shadow fell over the tower.

_Please, Merlin, don't let it be what I think it is_!

A screeching scream tore through the sky and the air left her lungs in a rush. _Well, I wanted something that could end it quickly for him_, she thought, turning her face skyward to stare in awe at the enormous Hungarian Horntail that had appeared out of nowhere. _That should bloody well do it_.

The impossibly huge creature dove for the potions master, a jet of flame leading the way. The rapidly-warming stone floor of the tower shook from the force of its body colliding with Snape's ward.

The ward held.

The potions master fell.

Emily's heart sank in her chest.

Severus straightened, then, wand extended, shoulders squared, and she returned to her work with renewed vigor. Now that she'd gotten the hang of it, she could carve and imbue the runes with accuracy and speed, especially when her life depended on the act.

She did her best to ignore whatever was happening above her, but it was intense... and hot. The air about her had become dry and heated in the last few minutes, burning her lungs as she fought to keep her breathing steady. At alarmingly frequent intervals, the tower shook, Severus shouted a renewed warding spell, and Emily cursed. Being buried in the rubble of a collapsing tower, pursued by a magically-incensed dragon was not the way she wanted to die, and not the way she preferred for Severus to meet his end, either.

His death should be the stuff of legends: standing his ground proudly, black cape billowing around his tall, proud frame, facing down one of the deadliest creatures known to wizardkind. Another bloodcurdling screech and a scraping crunch drew her eyes for an instant to the tower wall where the dragon now perched, its head thrown back on a serpentine neck, bellowing its rage to the heavens. A claw, almost as large as the tower's defender swiped with dizzying speed at Severus and visibly sunk into the ward tearing from Severus a hoarse shout of stubborn denial. Furious as it was, the dragon was not an unintelligent beast and knew a weakness when it felt one. The blows continued, its claws raking relentlessly, sinking further and further toward the potions master as he struggled to keep both the ward and his feet.

Emily forced her head back down as the dragon lunged, teeth snapping far too close now to the potion master's head. At this rate, she need not do anything but take her time. The professor would not long survive this encounter.

Suddenly, the beast was in the air once more, flipping its body in an amazing show of airborne acrobatics and slamming the spikes of its powerful tail home in what it now knew to be the weakest area of the ward. Snape let the protective barrier fall for a moment as the creature righted itself, preparing for another attack. A shouted command and deft movement of his wand produced a deep slash across the beast's face that certainly blinded it in one eye, but in the ensuing shower of blood, it was difficult to be certain.

The creature shook its head furiously, soaking the curving ward in blood, and spun once in the air, turning its body with a grace that defied both form and size to face the tower as it dove. Severus raised his wand to renew the ward just as Emily pulled hers away from the perfectly-carved, yet-to-be-imbued, final rune to level it at Snape's hand. There was no time to consider, only time to act. A disarming spell would do the trick, leave him helpless before a creature that would waste no time in ripping him to shreds, then she could imbue the rune and be done with both her tasks.

It was quick.

It was merciful.

It was utterly untraceable.

Lucius would be thrilled. And, why not? There was no hope for anyone who opposed him or his master. As it had always been, so it would always be. Any fool could see that. If only Severus had turned out to be less of a fool, it wouldn't have had to be this way. Knowing the power of their master and his servants, Sev still spoke of hope. Her hand shook for just a moment. _But, there's no hope for us, my love. There never was. I'm so terribly sorry it had to end this way_.

Calmly, with a detachment that would've made him proud, she steadied her aim and spoke.

* * *

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Author's note: Wow! I actually had to put off the posting of this chapter so that I could answer the extravagant number of reviews. I'm so happy! You guys are just wonderful!

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Captain Oblivious!: I love all the speculation about "that night." It's so much fun to read. I can't tell you, of course, if any of your ideas are correct, but I can say that (darn it all) some are your ideas are better than mine. I'm pleased that midterms went well for you, and I'm so unconcerned about your English paper that it hasn't occurred to me to give it a second thought. You'll do wonderfully; I know it. I remember the woes of having English teachers who were so blinkin' concerned about the way one _should_ write (according to the textbook) that they had no concept of the endless varieties of the manner in which people _do_ write. I sympathize with you, Captain. Nevertheless, you'll do wonderfully. I have all the confidence in the cosmos.

**1 lonelyangel**: Sorry about the suspense, sweetie. Wait a minute. No, I'm not (smirk). But, content yourself in the knowledge that I update twice to three times a week. I refuse to let my beloved readers hang on the cliff as some authors have left me. That's just not nice. I must say that your arguments against killing Severus are good ones. More Malfoy coming up. No worries.

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Elessar Evenstar: Wow! That was one heck of a review! I did indeed mourn my beta reader, o I procured a time-turner and undid the damage. He's gotten a stern warning, though. One more overlooked typo and he's _toast_! Of course, at the mention of toast, his eyes grew wide, and he no longer seemed interested in what I was saying. Sigh! He's always hungry, that boy! What am I going to do with him? Your story about the 'flipendo' hex has me wanting to procure the HP game for the PC. I have it on PSII and don't get to do that kind of groovy stuff. Pooh! Your reasoning about Emily is sound. Perhaps she does love him too much to kill him, though it certainly doesn't seem that way right now. I know what you mean about failing to be Malfoy-esqu. I, too, have attempted to imitate his overconfident, menacing sexiness and failed miserably. Actually, I was called to carpet by my boss because I made a co-worker cry. I'll just stick to being my usual, muffin-baking, tea-serving, never-cursing-in-front-of-grandma, uber-nice-guy (or nice girl, as the case may be). I, like you, also lack the immaculate face and body to go with the whole picture. Oh, and the big, fat bank account. I saw 'Hero' as well and sobbed like a baby almost all the way through the damn thing. I'm kind of soft like that, though. Oh, last, but definitely not least, for Lucius-lovers like us, I highly recommend a fiction on Sycophant called 'Leda' by Corriander. It's unbelievable! Leave a review because this incredible author is really hurting for a good word or two. I'm attempting to review it chapter by chapter, but it's taking a really long time.

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sev lover: I think perhaps the reason you don't like Lucius as much in these stories is that he's a genuine bad guy. He's harder to love, even for me. You are SO impatient for that smut scene. Aren't you? You know, just between us, I can really appreciate that.

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Dianatyne: Oops! Didn't mean to kill you. I really like you. Here. Have a cup of revitalizing lemon zinger tea with a few lady fingers. That'll help. I'm still trying to work out whether I should be flattered or insulted by the whole 'heavy' chapter thing. You tell me. If you're being snarky, then you can just give back those snacks, missy! No cookies for you. Actually, driving someone to drink makes me pretty proud, I gotta admit. Yay! She's not bored. When you wake up hung over, I'll apologize and only snigger when you're out of earshot.

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Teenage Zombie: You don't think she can do it, eh? Interesting. True, she's not strong willed, but she is damnably self-serving. And, if she fails to deliver, Malfoy's going to seriously kick her butt. Thanks for the compliment. I'll carry in my heart.

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Sesshomaru's Angel: I hope you had a wonderful vacation, dear. You certainly deserve one. I promise that, no matter what happens, I won't keep you waiting long. Thanks for the all-but-breathless review of 'The Side I'm Always On.' That was sweet. There will be less Draco in the next addition. He'll be there, just not as often. Hope you don't mind.

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emerald sparrow: Yes. I will definitely be writing a third installment of the Alex stories right after I wrap this one up. I'm actually stuck about halfway through the outline as we speak. Hope to see you there!

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Oya!: Your vote has been duly noted. I'm glad you're enjoying the story. Hang up your coat. Grab a beanbag chair and a muffin and stick around. Glad to have you!

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Quietude: Oh, I went into hysterics when I read this. The cat ran from the room I was laughing so hard. So, all of a sudden, Emily's not so bad, eh? Of course the part about smacking some sense into her, while hilarious, was quite poignant. And, just between us, that time is coming. Maybe not literally, but well... that'll do for inside info. I love how passionate you are about Emily's stupidity. It's so wonderful to me because, on many different levels, I can't help but agree with you. Thank you, _thank you_ for the compliment on my characterization of Severus. As I am almost maniacally peculiar about how I write him, that is quite appreciated! He may not always be exactly canon all the time, but I always want him to be Snape. If I ever took away his Snapiness, I'd have to commit Hara-Kiri. It would be the only honorable solution.

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Lady Jenilyn: Maybe the site ate your review. It's done it before, hasn't it? Lay off the Prozac. It's bad! Bad, I say! Here. Have some tea. In the words of Chien Po (Mulan), Relax, and chant with me. SeverusLuciusnaked...SeverusLuciusnaked...SeverusLuciusnaked.... You get the idea. I'm glad that you liked the flashback's tie in with the present situation. I can see Severus being very compassionate toward 'those select few' he deems worthy. I think Sadie would be one of those. Yeah. I'm right there with you. He'd have to pry me off of his body with a crowbar... and I'm not absolutely _certain_ that that would stop me. I'm damnably resourceful when I need to be. Thanks for the good word. It helps. You know it helps! As for you, young lady.... (whip cracks in background) That's all I have to say on the matter. By the by, I know that you wanted Remus recommendations, but I have a great new one for Lucius. It's called Leda by Corriander on Sycophant Hex. Net. Excellent story! Great OC. Be sure to review! This poor girl's getting nothing, but silence, and it's a damn shame.


	24. Chapter TwentyFour: Trust

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Chapter Twenty-Four: Trust

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Author's note:

Write petition and have it signed by everyone in the known frickin' world, write two letters of protest, bake a cake, make two Halloween costumes, paint a landscape for auction, have car repaired... again, give up a night to help with Fall Festival.

This, my little darlings, is the list of things I had to accomplish between my last post and today. Of course, this is on top of a full-time job. I have tried, really tried to get this update to you because I hate to leave people hanging for too long, but I just couldn't manage it until today. Please, please forgive me. I still have miles to go before I sleep... just one more costume for tomorrow afternoon and I'll be finished.

Oh! And, answer all my wonderful reviews! But, that's more of a pleasure than a chore.

* * *

Emily took a moment to scrub her face with hands which refused to stop shaking, in a useless attempt to rid herself of the horrid fluttering around her heart. Surely, _surely_, this could not really be happening! How had she let him talk her into this?

"What have I done?" she chanted over and over again, a mantra that seemed to offer her some degree of sanity, as she rocked back and forth in the plush chair by the hearth. For a moment she thought she'd cry... again, but a hysterical laughter bubbled up instead; hateful, mocking laughter at the endless irony that was her life.

Pushing back the broken clown in her head, she took a few deep, shuddering breaths to calm herself, ran a cold hand reverently over the ornate, silver serving dish on the table, and checked the clock for the hundredth time.

"It's over now, Em," she told herself softly. "There's no turning 'round at this point, so you may as well just pull yourself together and finish what you've started."

A handful of floo powder turned the cheerful flames a menacing green. "Lucius Malfoy's Office," she managed. A moment later, a familiar, perfect form filled the hearth and she lowered her head in deference.

"Emily," he greeted solemnly. "Tell me what I wish to hear."

"The task is completed, Lucius," she returned, calling forth every ounce of her will to subdue the tremble in her voice. "Severus is dead."

A heavy pause.

"And, I'm certain that you have proof of this."

"Yes," she answered flatly, despising the eagerness in his voice. _Bloodthirsty bastard_, she fumed silently, steeling her face to conceal the overwhelming fury. _You don't have to be so bloody thrilled about it_.

"You've done well, then," he assured her with a small, regal smile. "Better than I expected. Now, come... and bring your evidence with you."

Not trusting her voice, she merely gave a quick nod and turned to levitate the tray.

"Emily."

She turned sharply at the soft call.

"Leave your wand."

A stab of terror that she couldn't possibly hide shot through her heart at his words.

"You will not be harmed," he assured her. "But, your emotional state at present... concerns me. I should hate to see you ruin all that you stand to gain with a foolish deluge of sentimental rage."

Her eyes narrowed at the insinuation, then returned to normal at the realization that he was right. One insensitive word about Severus and, with the fragile state of mind that she was in, she'd do whatever she could to hurt him... getting herself killed in the process, no doubt.

Forcing her fingers to uncurl, she dropped the wand weakly onto the chair where the action could easily be seen by Lucius, then physically lifted the tray, took his beckoning hand, and allowed him to bring her safely through the wards. Once in Malfoy Manor, she sank to her knees, her burden before her - more because her legs would no longer hold her than out of any sense of reverence.

"What have you brought?" he asked imperially, the sight of a woman on her knees bringing out every bit of his arrogance.

Wordlessly, she removed the lid from the tray to reveal a grizzly trophy. This, she lifted with almost obscene respect and held it up before her. Green eyes searched gray... waiting.

"For you, my lord," she managed to croak, "that you may never doubt my loyalty again."

A pale eyebrow lifted and was held aloft as an elegant hand reached to tangle itself in the hair of her beloved's severed head.

Emily's stomach lurched as the floor fell away beneath them.

Lucius cursed savagely as another replaced it, his hand already upon his wand, but a briskly-spoken spell, loosed before he could even open his mouth cost him his weapon, leaving him empty-handed and livid. Never one to surrender, he searched wildly for an advantage and found one in the dazed woman still kneeling at his feet.

"Don't!"

The harsh command was followed by a sharp burst of stinging flame, scorching his already outstretched hand, and swinging him about to face his adversary.

"Severus, you fool!" Lucius whispered acidly, an inappropriate and frightening level of authority still in his tone.

If Snape noticed at all, which he almost certainly did, he ignored it completely. "Have a seat," he commanded coldly, indicating with a flick of his wand one of the only two pieces of furniture in the otherwise empty room. Seeing no option, Lucius sank into the chair with cool dignity just as the severed head to which Emily still clung lost its enchantment and faded back into its original form, leaving her with a slightly flesh-colored Quaffle.

The sight of the off-color ball brought a nervous giggle from Emily, then a great sigh.

She stood unsteadily as Severus bound Lucius to his chair and divested him of his remaining weapons - a long, poisoned dagger and shorter version without the benefit of the added toxin.

"It's odd, Lucius," Severus said calmly as he worked. "Normally, I feel that knowledge - any and all knowledge - is power. But there is a point at which one simply knows too much." He drew the remaining chair a bit closer and seated himself opposite the coldly staring Malfoy. "You, old friend, have reached that point."

"The Dark Lord will never rest until he finds who killed his first-in-command, Severus," Lucius returned calmly - far too calmly for Emily's comfort. "To execute me is to hasten your own demise, yours and that of your traitorous _whore_."

Malfoy's head was turning back from the blow, a thin line of blood trickling from the corner of his mouth before Emily even realized that Severus had struck him.

"Sev," she breathed, not caring at all for the glint of fury in his eye, or the calculating way in which a wholly unruffled Lucius was studying him.

Snape ignored her entirely, even the gentle hand on his arm.

"You ought to be careful, Lucius," he said tightly. "While I have no intention of taking your life, I have no qualms whatsoever about making you wish that I had." He smiled - a thin, nasty line that denoted anything but amusement. "You are vastly more useful to me alive. I would be a fool to dispose of such a fountain of knowledge, possessed of information to which I would never have been a party. That changes tonight." A small bottle was slipped from an inner pocket of his robe. "Tonight, you are going to tell me everything you know, and I am going to pass that information along to the only man who can truly utilize it. Then, I will carefully remove from your brain anything that is remotely detrimental and replace it with misinformation which is certain to be much more conducive to my own agenda." His lips curved slightly as Malfoy's went rigid.

"By the time our business is concluded, Lucius, I will be your most trusted confidant. Any new information you acquire will be immediately commended to me, and I, in turn, will present that information to the Order."

He reached over to casually flick a piece of lint from his now-seething captive's sleeve. "From this moment on, there are three traitors in the Dark Lord's ranks. But, by the time either of you are aware of it, it will be far too late."

The actual questioning was long and tedious, Severus Snape's specialty, and as much as she loved to watch him work, Emily found her mind retracing the whirlwind of activity that brought her from the Southern Tower with every intention of killing her beloved to the bared storage room with Malfoy, a traitor to the Dark Lord.

It was inevitable, really, that she would be unable to take his life. The thought of harming Severus in the slightest sent her stomach into a nosedive. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she had known all along that things would transpire exactly as they did: that she would raise her wand, take aim, and give herself a profanely thorough going over for even considering Malfoy's offer.

The next thing she knew...

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Three Hours Prior

"What have I done?" she moaned into the black marble tile - steaming water soaking her hair and beating a steady rhythm on her aching back - utterly failing to relieve the tension there. She tried to cry again, but there were no tears left. Instead, a maniacal giggle bubbled up from within, gurgling a bit as she turned her face up into the heated spray.

She didn't even bother to dry her hair afterwards, just gave it a quick swab with the towel as she slipped into the appallingly plain, yet precious robe that Severus had purchased for her before she was even coherent enough to know who he was.

Dragging herself into the adjoining office, she plopped down beside him on the sofa, jostling the enormous tome in which he'd buried his nose.

The tiniest hint of a frustrated sigh as he readjusted was his only comment. Pulling her knees close, she turned to face him, and waited. He made no move to acknowledge her, merely studied the book in his hands as carefully as if it contained instructions for making a Sorcerer's Stone.

So, she engaged in his least favorite of her activities: open staring.

In under a minute, he relented, the book shuffled off to the side as he shifted slightly to turn a slightly ruffled, curious gaze at her. _By the gods, she loved that look_! It was unbelievable, vulgar even, that only a few hours prior, she'd almost closed those precious eyes forever.

As she stared, an elegant, black brow lifted in question. She answered the query with the thought that presently dominated her mind.

"I love you, Sev," she breathed almost reverently.

The brow rose higher. _And_, it prompted.

"And," she answered heavily, "I really must speak with you."

He leaned slightly, resting his arm on the back of the sofa as he turned more fully toward her and leveled her with a gaze she knew all too well. "You have my undivided attention," he assured her solemnly.

"Well, what more could a girl ask for?" she asked almost sadly. After a moment, the doleful levity passed and she continued. "I've done something awful, Severus. And, I'm afraid I've placed us both in considerable danger," she said simply, then added with a helpless shrug. "I don't know what to do, now."

Snape took a small sip of wine from the glass hovering by his knee before answering in the most casual of tones. "Perhaps you should have taken my life as you intended."

She felt her jaw drop, and knew that she must look a great fool, staring at him with her mouth hanging open as he emptied the glass before turning a frigid gaze on her as she sat in shock.

A small quirk of a smile brushed his lips and was gone. "Not quite the fool you thought I was?" He chuckled slightly at her face which had surely evolved from shock into terror. "Did you think that I would not notice your sudden, inexplicable bout of melancholy, your new penchant for jumping at shadows?" His face grew stern. "Or that I can't sense a wand at my back, even when I'm facing a dragon?" Emily could do nothing, but stare. "Your obviously-less-than-favorable opinion of my intelligence is beginning to rankle a bit, Miss Grey." This last part was said with his usual staid expression, but she knew him well enough to see the barely-visible quirk at the corner of his mouth, a telling indication that he wasn't entirely serious.

"I'm so sorry, Sev," she said, her voice quivering a bit as she spoke. "I've made a horrible mess. If I had listened to you..."

"We can't erase the past, Emily." His voice was irritated, but softly so. "Perhaps we should concentrate on making the future a bit more tolerable than it stands to be at present."

She sat back a bit, toying with the edge of her sleeve, not wanting to meet his gaze.

"As I decidedly mistrust that you would come to such a decision on your own, I must conclude that you have been ordered to kill me," he stated simply, no readable expression on his face. She nodded, wary as any wise person would be around Severus Snape when he felt threatened. "I feel that it is also safe to conclude," he continued calmly, "that the order came from within the Dark Lord's ranks and not from he, himself."

She nodded again, dumbstruck at his insight.

After a moment's consideration, he spat out a name like a vile curse:

"_Lucius_."

It was not a question, Emily noticed. It was a statement of fact, and she shivered at the sound of the name hissing through Snape's teeth.

"He knows, Sev," she said, unable to keep the dread from her voice.

He gave a light shrug. "I suspected as much. The Dark Lord either does not believe him, or he hasn't yet deigned to tell him."

"Doesn't believe him," Emily answered quietly.

A nasty sneer crawled across his face, then, and Emily shrank from it. "No. He could never bring himself to believe that his pet potions master had _slipped his leash_."

"But, he knows now that there's a traitor," she said frantically. "He's already begun to search. It's only a matter of time before..."

Severus lifted two fingers, the tiniest of gestures, but it stopped her panicked invective cold.

"I know all of this, Emily. And what I merely speculated, you have now confirmed. There is but one aspect which is still impenetrable. Perhaps you'd care to enlighten me."

Emily looked up, then, to meet his gaze unwaveringly. "I'll tell you whatever you want to know, Sev," she promised solemnly.

"Yes, you will... one way or another." He regarded her with narrowed eyes for a moment, letting the promise sink in before continuing. "Malfoy is the most powerful ally you could possibly make in the Dark Lord's ranks. I'm certain that that factored into your decision to take my life." Again he spoke with a cold, calculating calm that made her want to sprint for the door. "Conversely, he is also one of the deadliest enemies one could have. Not lightly does one disobey him. Indeed, there are only a few who dare. Wisely, therefore, you accepted his charge. You waited for the perfect moment to strike, when there was almost no danger to you, and I was wholly preoccupied with another enemy. " He slipped his hand inside his sleeve, an obvious gesture, one he clearly intended her to see. "That was when I felt your wand, and in that instant, I knew two things. I knew what you were planning to do, and I knew that I was powerless to stop you." His eyes narrowed even more as he hissed the next words. "And how I _despised_ you in that moment, and despised myself even more for trusting you."

His brow furrowed, then, etching deep lines between his eyes. "To your credit, your approach was flawless in its simplicity. For the first time in your life, Emily, you had the better of me." Here, his superior glare faded, and he regarded her with plain curiosity. "Why in Merlin's name did you falter?"

"Why?" she asked incredulously, shaking her head in wonder. "_Gods_, Sev, after all these years, you still don't understand?" Impulsively, she latched onto his hand and, before he could snatch it away, pulled it flat against her chest. "Do you feel that? Every time my heart beats, it whispers your name, and the blood in my veins is _infused_ with you." No reaction from him, just cold, black eyes, and an even colder silence. Still she continued. "Long before you breathed life into my body, you were the breath in my lungs, Sev. For as long as I can remember, my entire universe has revolved around you. Before my eyes open in the morning: _Severus_. When I close them again at night: _Severus_. On the rare occasion that I dream, I dream of you."

Hesitantly, she reached to touch his face, and was thrilled that he allowed it, neither pulling away, nor leaning into the caress. But, it didn't matter. It was enough that he let her touch him, that he was listening and absorbing with that intent gaze what she could not express in words.

"I love you, Severus," she intoned slowly, carefully, weighing each word as she spoke it, trying to impart to him what they meant to her. "I can't recall a time when I didn't, and I know that there will never be a time when I do not. You say that you despised me for one moment today? I have hated you since we were fifteen." His eyes widened just for a second, then returned to their careful observation. "Since the day you refused to _allow_ me to give to you what was yours - and even within that hatred, I loved you. Desperately. Helplessly. Blindly, even, but with all my soul, nonetheless. You want to know why I didn't kill you?" The tears that she had been trying to hold in check were flowing, now, but lightly, not yet overwhelming her, still allowing her to speak. Hastily, she wiped them away with the hand that wasn't holding his. "I simply couldn't. I couldn't accept your death, that there were only two options: my wand or his. A quick death or slow.

"You told me that there is hope, Sev; and I'm foolish enough to believe you, even though I see no evidence of it. And if there's hope for the world, then maybe - just maybe - there's hope for you, and consequently, for us." She searched his eyes carefully, glittering pools that had run through a myriad of emotions and were now staring at her cautiously, but without the malice that they'd held when she'd first begun to speak. She shrugged slightly, releasing a laugh that was more like a small, choked sob. "Tell me that it's so, Sev. Tell me I haven't damned us both, and I'll believe you."

For a moment, Severus looked surprised as he reached up to brush away the tiny trail of tears from her cheek, and at that single, gentle touch, she fell to pieces in his arms, her shoulders shaking with the force of her sobs as she took shelter in the strength of his embrace, her face buried in his broad chest. Severus didn't question her, didn't make vague promises of happy endings as most men would. He simply held her, letting her weep bitterly as her fists balled in his robes and she choked out barely discernable apologies and pleas for forgiveness, muffled in the thick, black cloth.

A long time later, the tears slowed, her grip on his robes loosened, her breathing returned to normal, and the searing pain in her heart began to fade.

Finally, when a disheveled version of Lady Emily Grey emerged from the tangle of his robes, she felt somewhat healed, as though the combined poison of Voldemort's power and Malfoy's malice and her own tainted desires had been washed away, and there existed a sense of peace she'd not felt since her first days of consciousness after leaving Azkaban. It was glorious: sweet and warm and quiet... like her beloved's heart - the part that no one else ever saw, the part that shone through as he gazed down on her now with eyes that hid a dark wisdom in their fathomless depths.

"There is hope, Emily," he said carefully. "That, I promise you."

"Even for us?" she asked, a tiny smile punctuating the query.

He kissed her, then, a gentle sweep of his lips across hers, uncertain, almost timid, leaving her to wonder what he felt he had to fear. "Especially for us," he answered simply. "Particularly now. After all, you seem to have blundered into a sterling opportunity."

Her brows furrowed in question.

"When is Malfoy expecting you?" he asked, a devilish quirk at the corners of his mouth.

* * *

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Captain Oblivious! Missed you!

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lonelyangel: Perhaps I should explain that I love to leave people on a cliff, just not for a long time. Please read the author's note for the apology that I know I owe you guys. I meant to have this chapter posted by Tuesday night, but just became buried in other obligations. I hope that your nails are okay. And, **thank you** for being so supportive. You are a sweetheart!

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Quietude: Okay. I just can't help but be flattered when you call me all those things, so cut it out. You're going to give me the big head. I just adore how much you despise Emily when she's mistreating Severus! It's so sweet! By the way, I extended your apology to Hobbes and he forgives you.

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Sesshomaru's Angel: You know, I actually feared that, if I didn't clear up matters quickly, I might look outside the window and see all my darling reviewers with pitchforks and torches. Sometimes, my anonymity is a glorious thing!

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Elessar Evenstar: Better now? I would've hated to see you wrench your own heart out, especially with a spoon! By the way, great alternate Alan Rickman reference... very appropriate. Peanut butter and toast? I've never tried that, but I mentioned it to my friend, Sylvan, and she claims that it's wonderful. I'll have to give it a whirl. Yes. You have the right story. The author just finished it a few days ago. The ending left me sad, as all endings do, but also very optimistic. All in all, it was a marvelous work!

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Oya: Really sorry about the time it took to update. Are you mad at me?

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Queen of the Faeries: Good. That's exactly the impression I wanted to leave you with. Actually, I struggled for days over whether it would be more in character for her to kill him or not. It took a while to decide. I had outlines for both directions. I can only hope that this chapter didn't disappoint. Just between us, I think it's the worst one yet. The next one is better. I promise!

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Dianatyne: I hope that you don't stay dead. I'm getting attached. Will you not be dead anymore now that Sev's going to live? Please? Here's your tea, sweetie. Sorry about the hangover. That's a real bummer. I'll try to type quietly while you recover.

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Lady Jenilyn: I know I've mentioned it before, but it bares repeating that I love the fact that you like my Severus and tell me as much. Gee, Dragonlance.... Hmmm... I may have heard of them.... The dragon scene was tough as hell to write, so thanks. No need to recall your high school days. It's been a while for both of us. I'll go ahead and tell you that the last one is spirit. But, that might be a bit. You might call the next few chapters: Now, for something completely different. By the way, I am incredibly pleased to know that I'm a bad influence. You made my whole week! Oh! And, did you catch the end of Leda? Fan - damn - tastic!!!

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Teenage Zombie: Cool that one of my scenes reminded you of a fantasy novel cover. That's a compliment if there ever was one. I think Sev would feel the same way. Looks like your theory was correct. Way to predict!

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Sev lover: I'm glad that you appreciate my tapping into Sev's emotions. It's difficult to do, but I was really determined to flesh him out more than I have in my other stories.

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Asha Ice: Sorry about that wait, but not the cliffie.

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emerald sparrow: Not sorry to leave you hanging. I get a kick out of doing that, but really, **really** sorry about the wait. I know I said so in the author's note, but I should like to reiterate.


	25. Chapter TwentyFive: A Belated Gift

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Chapter Twenty-Five: A Belated Gift

Severus stared at the flames through which Malfoy had recently disappeared. He had given them an unbelievable amount of information, much more than Severus had dared to hope, and left with carefully-worded prevarication in its place. They now knew more than they could've ever gained through the usual channels, and would have more delivered to them from the right hand, himself - willingly, cheerfully, even. Of course, revealing this information to Albus would mean having to explain how he'd extracted it. The headmaster would not be pleased. For all of his wonderful ways, Albus was notoriously noble and despised Snape's nastier means of persuasion.

There was almost no way to pass this wealth of information along without explaining that he'd had to use every Unforgivable curse for which they had a law... several times over. Lucius was an unbelievably strong wizard, resilient beyond almost all measure. It had been a hellish battle to break his will enough to get anything valuable from him, an even worse struggle to alter his perception of Severus and Emily. But, at long last, he had triumphed and Lucius had been sent off to unknowingly harvest more information for the Order.

It was at that moment that Snape became truly aware of Emily for the first time since he had left her to prepare for Malfoy's coming. Presently, she was staring at him as he stared at the flames - pensively, seeming to look not at him, but beyond him. He shifted only his eyes to view her out of the very edge of his vision, and she turned away, a vivid blush on her fair cheek.

"I- It's getting late," she stammered. "We should go now if we want to catch Albus awake," she said to the wall.

"Albus?" he questioned blankly, then shook his head, turning upon his heel to face her as a dark chuckle escaped him. She shivered and it pleased him immensely.

Bringing his hand to her cheek, he found that her skin was hot to the touch.

"Foolish, foolish girl," he whispered, causing her green eyes to open wide in fear. _Ah, what a beautiful sight_. Her heart was beating faster, the pulse moving the skin at her throat - a tempting invitation.

In one swift movement, he'd grabbed her by the wrist and pulled her through the wall into his own chambers. A few terse commands sealed the room and warded the hearth against prying eyes.

She backed up a step as he turned back to her, allowing a wicked gleam to set his eyes alight. He waited for her hand to inevitably reach for the wand which was not there, then struck, swooping down on her with a kiss that bordered on savagery, biting at her plump, red lips when they did not open of their own accord. Her first reaction was shock, but all too soon, she relented, eagerly giving back as much as she received. After a few breathless moments, he broke away.

"For twenty years, I have wanted you, Emily," he murmured into her parted lips. "Albus can bloody _wait_."

True to his word, he returned his attentions to her mouth - more gently, this time, reminding himself sternly that, in this one respect at least, she was an innocent. He'd be well served to take his time. This only happened once. Sex he'd had, plenty of it, but this was sacred, this sharing of her body, giving to him what she could give to only one man. He planned to treat it with the dignity such a gift warranted.

He began with a gentleness he had not known he possessed, a tiny scattering of kisses across her lovely face, down the bridge of her nose as she giggled lightly, the barest taste of her mouth as he passed it by, mapping her features several times over before returning to her mouth. And, it was sweet, so sweet, the taste of her as he allowed the tiny kisses to flow together, to lengthen, deepen naturally, as he breathed deep the unique scent that was Emily; unique only because it was different every day, some new oil or potion or perfume or a combination of several. It was never the same, as varied as everything else in her life. Tonight, she smelled of amber oil and something strange, exotic, like coconut, but warmer.

Sliding his cheek down hers, he nuzzled at her neck, reveling in the silken feel of her skin, the soft whispers of delight as he explored her. The eager spread of strong fingers began to build his awareness of her as she boldly ran her hands down his back, around his waist and up his chest, beginning to loosen his shirt now with inexpert and halting movements. He did nothing to assist, indeed he enjoyed her frustration as she worked first the top button of his waistcoat, then the next, then the next, finally whimpering her frustration into his mouth as he continued his eternity of leisurely kisses.

This time, he was more tender, coaxing her mouth to open with a subtle tasting of her lips with his tongue. She complied willingly, eagerly, not only allowing, but deepening the kiss with a desperate moan and a ferocity that nearly matched his own previously excessive enthusiasm. Abruptly, he broke away, cupping her face in his hand, stroking her cheek with his thumb.

"Slowly, Emily," he whispered, smoothing a hand through her hair as if soothing a pet. "Slowly. Let me love you this first time."

Swallowing thickly, she nodded, gazing into his eyes with something akin to fear that gave him pause.

He drew away, stepping back and releasing her immediately.

As much as he wanted her, he had to be absolutely positive.

"Emily, if you are uncertain..."

He never finished, stopped cold by a red-haired projectile hurtling herself into his arms and kissing him with abandon.

"No. I'm not. I want you, Sev," she managed to mumble between kisses. "I _need_ you. Please, please, don't stop this time."

It was more than enough surety and he returned to his previous gestures with much less calm than before, her raw passion having greatly perturbed his composure. Now, his mouth took hers with breathless and wanton abandon, no longer cautious as he lost himself in the taste of her, the sound of her pleading whimpers and moans as he began to unfasten her robes, sliding them over her shoulders and down her arms with precision learned years ago in the arms of women whose names were forgotten the day after.

Emily had returned her attentions to his waistcoat and finally managed to free him of it. It hit the floor with a rush of thick fabric that snapped him back into his senses.

He slowed once more, trying desperately to regain some semblance of composure, gently sliding her robes down over softly-curving hips as he knelt before her, nuzzling the silken warmth of her belly. Tender hands buried themselves in his hair. Distantly, he was aware of her calling his name, but his attentions were fading, now, lost to him as composure gave way to passion and thought surrendered to instinct.

Somehow they made it to the bed in a tumble of swiftly-lost fabric and knelt together upon the neatly-turned-down bedclothes. In an almost angry flurry of activity, she divested him of the last stitch of his armor, the unbuttoned shirt that still hung loosely from his shoulders, and brought her mouth to the newly-bared flesh pulling a hungry groan from his throat as he slipped his hands into her mane of hair reminding himself to be gentle, resisting the urge to tear at it, to snatch her down by her own locks and take what he had wanted for years incalculable.

_Damn this sense of propriety, this inevitable protectiveness_! It would surely be the death of him as his blood quickened and his instincts screamed at him to join his body with hers. Carefully, he composed himself and allowed her to take her time, kneading his skin with slow-moving hands, pressing agonizing, endless kisses over his chest and shoulders, stopping occasionally to trace with her tongue the various scars she encountered. No need to ask where they had come from. She knew, for she bore a few of her own.

The innocent flick of a tongue as her mouth closed over his nipple was his undoing. Unable to take a moment more, he threw her to the bed with a growl and covered her body with his own, nipping at her throat as lightly as he could manage with what little control he still possessed. Desperately, she clung to him as he moved to her shoulder, then closed his mouth over her breast, drawing a cry from her that shook him to his core.

She was nervous, he could tell, perhaps even frightened, shivering beneath him, her hands shaking as they moved over his skin. How indescribably precious, the way her breath hitched in her throat as he pressed his arousal into her thigh. Gods, she was more than merely technically pure, she was utterly without experience and he found himself slowing as he took advantage of her suddenly vulnerable mind to creep inside and unearth what she was thinking.

The first touch of his mind to hers was almost enough to send him over the edge, the raw passion of which she was capable he'd almost forgotten. It was so odd to enter a mind so utterly different from his own, especially having so recently been in Malfoy's which was hauntingly similar. Where Severus thought in numbers and measurements, words and calculations, Emily thought in pictures and colors and unfettered emotions. Presently, her mind was such a jumble of whispers and moans and tumbling flashes of his face and body that it was impossible to read. Little bits of childhood conversations with roommates who had little more experience than she telling her how painful and horrid the first time would be, snippets of advice about trying to relax to make it easier, her own terror at being unable to do so as he drove her closer and closer to the edge even now, before he'd even begun to love her.

It was too much. He slipped out of her jumbled thoughts as quickly and quietly as he'd entered and concentrated instead on her pleasure. If she was that afraid, then he'd simply have to take her mind off of the tension, he thought with a wicked gin as he slid the rest of her underpinnings down her body and somewhere over the side of the bed, then rose up to his hands and knees to study her.

He began with her face and saw that she was flushed, cheeks stained vivid red as if she'd been engaged in some vigorous exercise. The flush continued down her throat and ended just above her voluptuous breasts whose peaks had hardened into points from his recent attentions. Her waist was nipped in, but not tiny, her belly softly rounded as a woman's should be and her hips, which his hand now lightly caressed, were full and ripe.

"Sev?" The query was whispered, breathless, slightly afraid. He smirked. If she feared that he would stop now, then she had no idea what he was feeling.

He gave a soft smile, the one he reserved only for her.

"You are beautiful, Emily," he purred, watching as the color in her cheeks deepened even more and she turned her gaze to the side, shyly.

Precious.

His mouth descended once more, this time to her belly, teasing the silken flesh there with tiny swipes of his tongue, then moved lower to nip at the flesh of her thighs. She cursed, and he chuckled, highly amused, even in his heightened state of arousal at her use of profanity to express any intense emotion. Long he remained there, suckling and kneading at the soft flesh of her inner thigh as she whimpered and pleaded, desperate for something she hadn't the experience to even name.

And again he reminded himself to be cautious with her, to give her as much pleasure as possible before taking his own, to allay her fears or at least bury them beneath so much passion that she became immune. Then, he would feel free to take her.

With this in mind, he parted her legs further and brought his mouth, already watering at the thought of tasting her, to her sex. And, _gods_, her reaction was wonderful, a sharp hiss of breath, a sweet cry of his name, and then mindless whimpers of pleasure as he plunged his tongue inside her then smoothed it gently along her lips, just shy of the tiny point that most needed his attentions.

A whimper of protest from her as her fists tangled in the bedclothes.

_How sweet_.

Slowly, very slowly, he slid a finger inside her, acclimating her to his touch, insinuating what was to come. And, merely for his own curiosity, coming to rest at the barrier of her virginity. She stiffened as he withdrew and joined the first finger with another, stretching her slowly as his mouth continued its attentions, fascinated with the varied reactions, etching them in his mind for future reference. Here she reacted very little, here she trembled violently, a slight movement of his mouth just here and she cried out... Ah, now _that_ was a lovely sound. It enflamed him, forced him to stop a moment and master himself once more. He would not last much longer, he knew. What little reason and civility that remained was quickly fading with the slick feel of her on his tongue. Her body was ready, _more_ than ready for him. Her mind may need a bit more coaxing. If she was tense when he entered her...

_Gods, please don't let me hurt her_.

Her breath was coming more quickly now, hitching in her throat each time his tongue lightly passed over the point of her desire causing a white-hot flame to race through his veins, and he finally stopped his teasing, giving her what she had been crying out for. Not because he'd tired of her pleas, but because he simply couldn't wait any longer.

It was over quickly, _unbelievably_ quickly. Indeed he had barely begun when her body froze, then shuddered beneath him as she cried out in ecstasy. There he remained, sliding his tongue lightly over her body, drawing out her climax for as long as it pleased her, until he could take no more.

She seemed to hesitate when he returned his mouth to hers, still covered with her own need, but groaned when his tongue snaked inside her mouth, sharing the taste of her desire with her. She took it eagerly, sucking lightly, as he filled her mouth with a sound that was lamentably close to a desperate whimper. The little shame he felt at that disappeared entirely when he settled into the cradle of her thighs and brought his arousal to her slippery entrance... and she froze.

He pulled away with a sigh, reminding himself that this was to be expected, that patience was needed, but _gods_ if she changed her mind now he may find himself guilty of a crime neither of them would ever forgive. He searched her eyes carefully, silently asking for a sign.

She looked at him as if he were a wolf about to leap... then smiled, swallowing nervously. The shift of her hips which brought him slipping inside her passage caught him completely off-guard and was nearly his ruin. His body had stopped, though, before he could enter completely. With one long, sharp thrust, he changed that, and the choked cry that it tore from her was as startling as it was beguiling.

He stopped. Took a long, deep breath as his eyes searched hers. A shaking hand came to rest on his face, tracing the line of his cheek, then falling to his mouth. She smiled, a warm, contented smile that sent a shiver through his body as suddenly he realized that this was something he'd never done before; lay with a woman so tenderly with more concern for her pleasure than his own, giving a silent oath that he would be there when she woke... and each morning thereafter. Whether he enjoyed the admission or not, he loved her, and belonged to her just as surely as she belonged to him.

With a smile, he brushed a kiss over her lips, then sealed his mouth over hers completely, swallowing her soft cries as he began to move inside her, pulling away slowly only to enter again, a gentle rhythm intended to soothe them both. He continued at this agonizingly slow pace for a long while, allowing her to become accustomed to the size of him, the feel of his body moving inside her own, finally pulling away to watch her face as her passage began to tighten.

She was close once more, much to his delight, and he braced his body to move a hand between them and hasten her pleasure. Again she responded more quickly than he thought possible, writhing against him as he moved more quickly within her, unable to continue this languid measure as the fire at the center of his body began to spread.

As his strokes quickened, her own climax neared and he watched in fascination as she gasped and cried out, eyes squeezed tightly as her body convulsed wildly around his. She was still crying his name when the intense heat grew to the point at which he could no longer contain it and he exploded within her, burying his face in her hair as he spilled his seed deep within her body.

When his thoughts again became coherent many moments later, he was still moving - slowly, gently as she rocked against him, unable, it seemed, to stop the endless shivers that ran through her body. Tenderly, he smoothed a few wet strands of hair from her cheek, and gave her a secretive smile as he whispered her name, sliding carefully out of her. She whined in protest, then gave the tiniest chuckle as he searched her eyes with unguarded concern.

"Are you hurt?" he whispered.

The giggle turned into a quiet laugh as she ran a hand languidly through his hair. "That is the last thing I am at present, Severus Snape." She turned to face him, snuggling closer when his arm wrapped around her waist. "I never dared to imagine..." She halted, smiled. "That was..." A hearty laugh shook her shoulders as he fell to his back with a groan and she curled into his arms. "Ah, sweet love, I shall have to feed your considerable ego in the morning. I fear you've rendered me quite speechless."

He chuckled lightly, unable to maintain his somber sense of reverence in the face of her merriment.

"At long last," was his parting shot before closing his eyes, drifting off to the sparkling sound of her laughter.

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Author's note: My personal nightmare of responsibility is finally over and I thank all of you for being so very patient with me. Hugs to all of you! I couldn't do this without you.

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Elessar Evenstar: Yes, You were right. You know me too damn well. I can't kill my beloved Severus. Sorry about the cold. I guess having you sneeze at the chapter is better than hearing that you printed it out and blew your nose on it. You didn't, did you? Wait a sec. Don't answer that. My self esteem is low enough. Wow! Where would _I_ be without compliments like that one? I would likely pack it up and never write again. I'm not very self-actualized. I require love (in the form of positive reviews) to continue working. So, thanks for yours.

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Asha Ice: You are an evil little thing, but I can appreciate that. Thanks for chiming in.

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Oya: Nah. I can't kill Severus. I love him too much. Thanks for not being mad.

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Sesshomaru's Angel: Sorry, but I had to hurt Lucius a little bit to get the info out of him. He's an awfully stubborn man. But, he's okay now, so no worries. Happy belated Halloween to you as well.

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Laura: Wow. When I first started to read your review for chapter 23, I was devastated. I thought I'd really upset you. I'm relieved that wasn't the case, and flattered beyond words that you read the whole damn story (or, what I have so far) in one day. That'll keep me writing! And, no, we're not at the end, not even terribly close. So, I hope to hear more from you in the future. In the meantime, have a seat, grab a muffin or cookie and cup of tea and relax. We're all friends, here! Love you, too. Your reviews were a spot of sunshine on a rainy day.

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Teenage Zombie: Thanks. I'm relieved that you thought it was sweet because I was rather disappointed in it. I just couldn't seem to get it to feel right. What's important, though, is that you liked it. That makes the four or five times I rewrote it seem paltry. My obligations have slowed quite a bit, thank goodness. Now, I can concentrate on my one great love. This!

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Lady Jenilyn: Okay, first of all, allow me to swear to you that I am headed over to review your story, like ASA - frickin' - P. I also have a half-finished letter on its way because you simply have to hear about the Halloween party from _Hell_. Sorry about the delay. I've been a lazy bum resting up from last week. I'm so ashamed! As to your review, I'm glad he's not dead, as well. But, be honest. You knew I couldn't kill him, didn't you? You were just humoring me. That's so sweet! I swear that Emily's character is being sharpened, not only by this chapter but by events to come as well. She's almost finished being such a flake, but I have to put her through a few more sessions in the kiln before she's properly finished. Remus is coming back. Soon, I promise. I agree about the last few chapters in Leda being too quick, but I was so relived at the ending that I almost couldn't manage to find fault. In retrospect, my only real disappointment was her love scenes. I like them long and juicy and Corriander likes to leave things to the imagination. Sigh. Oh, well. There's always Lady Malfoy's work. Now, that's some passionate writing! It makes my toes curl.

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Queen of the Faeries: I'm glad that the flashback was understandable. I wanted to, of course, give the impression that she'd killed him in the beginning, but didn't wish to leave her confession to the imagination and there was only one way to manage that. I'm flattered that you liked the ending scene and so relieved to hear that so many of you approved because the dialog gave me fits! I don't think I've ever had that much trouble with a scene. I wasn't really even that pleased with the end result, but I'm glad that it wound up being at least sweet. I hope that this chapter was better. If it wasn't, don't tell me. Okay, do tell me because it's the kind of thing I need to know... but tell me gently. I'm very sensitive.

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Captain Oblivious!: Welcome home! Glad to have you back! Oh, I'm so relieved about your paper. I know that must've helped to take the pressure off. Honestly, professors can be so harsh sometimes! Just for the record, I knew you knew she didn't do it. (Escaped sticks out tongue and blows raspberry) How's that for mature? Hey, if you're going to compile a soundtrack, let me know! I love music. It was actually my major for a time.

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1 lonelyangel: Oh, I hate to think I almost made you cry! Wait, no I don't. I love the fact that I almost made you cry. It means the story isn't completely boring. Yay for me! I almost made the lonely angel cry! Woo hoo! Okay. Sorry. I'll stop now. Thank you for the compliments on my writing style. They keep me writing. The Halloween costumes were completed. They were a Priest and Nun, for the Loaf (my beloved Beta reader, best friend, and hetero life mate) and me, respectively. I am a painter, but allow me to qualify that by asserting that I am a lousy painter! I would never insult the name of art by posting my work on the net, but thanks for asking. I feel arrogant enough just posting my writing, and still can't believe the response it gets!

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bluebird161221: Wow! You read my story in a day? Several times?! I'm astounded that I could hold your attention - and very, very flattered. You're the second reviewer I've had to do that just with this last post, and I don't quite know what to say. And, please don't send the ferrets after me! I raised two ferrets from infancy to death and know how riled up they can get. In fact, my youngest, Tasselhoff, once chased a maintenance man out of our apartment... literally! So, I'll be good. I'll update like a madwoman, just don't turn the ferrets loose on me! But... can I play with them for just a little while? I miss my babies so much!

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Quietude: It does seem quite the relief that Severus is control, doesn't it? Honestly, there's nothing much that he can't handle. Things will be easier now, I hope. You are the only one to say what I actually felt about the dialog between them at the end. It did feel sappy, and no matter how many times I rewrote it, I just couldn't seem to clean the sap off! It was bloody stuck to the scene itself! Very irritating! My breather has come and now I am back to doing what I love best. Thanks for caring.

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sev lover: Thanks for the good word.


	26. Chapter TwentySix: A WellEarned Rest

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Chapter Twenty-Six: A Well-Earned Rest

Emily awoke to the feathery tickle of a fingertip tracing languid patterns on her stomach, and forced herself to lie still, trying to ascertain what Severus was doing before she alerted him to the fact that she was awake. The single digit was joined by others now as his hand flattened and smoothed over her thighs, returning to her belly now with a slight tightening of the fingers, a gentle caress. A delicate touch across downy hairs forced a giggle from her and the movement stopped at once.

It was pure bliss, opening her eyes to the sight of the man she loved looking down on her with a tender smile, his pale skin almost glowing in the soft sunlight that filtered through the window high above. She returned the smile in silence, not wanting to break the tranquil mood, and he brought his mouth to hers in a kiss as silky as his voice, his hair, his skin.

Sweet Merlin, he was perfect. Better than she'd dared to dream. And finally, _finally_, he was hers.

"I hated to wake you," he whispered.

"You can wake me like that any time you like, Professor."

He chuckled lightly at her use of his professional title. "We really must be going."

A swift tug brought the blanket sailing over her head. "Oh, not for that, though," she whined. "Can't we just stay here for a few more hours?" A wandering hand snaked down his body to rest on his inevitable morning condition. "See? He wants to stay."

"Emily Grey," he scolded lightly, removing her hand from his manhood and the blanket from her face. "It's difficult to believe that a scant eight hours ago you were a blushing virgin."

"But, so much has happened since then. I can blush if you like, though," she laughed, rolling them over until he was pinned beneath. "I'll even be on top if you're too tired to..."

"That's quite enough," he chided, a bit more seriously this time. "Now, get out of this..."A soft pop announced the appearance of breakfast. Severus rolled his eyes at her grin. "Alright, but _after_ breakfast, we are up," he finished sternly "Understand?"

"Yes, Professor," she answered in a singsong voice.

"And, stop calling me that," he scolded, his voice completely devoid of its usual ire. "Honestly, I think I preferred 'Sev.' "

"How about Sevvie?"

A warning glare stopped her before she could suggest 'Sevvikins', and she turned her attention to her tray without another word.

The silence lasted through a single plum. "So, what are you going to tell the Headmaster?"

"Everything," he answered in his typical offhand manner.

"Even about Solstice?" she asked, completely taken aback.

"Of course not." He paused for a sip of coffee. "He would be furious with both of us."

She couldn't help the excited giggle that escaped. _Too much love, not enough sleep, Emily. At some point, you're going to have to get some rest_. Offhandedly , she found herself hoping, for the sake of her own health, that making love four times in a singe night would not be a common practice... even if it had been the most delightful night of her entire life.

Severus was an astounding lover. There was no way to calculate how many times he had pleased her since that first unbelievable moment when she'd shattered beneath his tongue. Like everything else in his life, Severus had obviously insisted on perfection of his knowledge of a woman's body and how it responded. Whatever she'd heard about how frightening, how breathtaking, how magical it could be, nothing even came close to describing the way she'd felt when he first joined his body with hers. For the first time in her life, there was wholeness and peace. And, now that she'd had them, she knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that living without them was no longer an option. She would do anything, be anyone, join any cause to remain at his side... and woe be to anyone who tried to come between them.

"This is just like our old school days," she mused, biting into a slice of apple.

He turned a surprised scowl in her direction. "I beg your pardon?"

"You know, fooling the Headmaster, covering our tracks." A soft elbow to his arm did nothing to lighten the scowl.

"Perhaps multiplied by several million," he snapped incredulously.

She answered with an exaggerated roll of her eyes. "No need to get testy. I was only making an observation."

"This is a war, Emily, not some childhood prank."

"Alright, alright... This is a war, lives are at stake," she chanted in a bored tone, then laughed abruptly. "I love you so much, Severus, and I'm happier than I've ever been just being here with you. I simply can't care about much else right now."

He smiled softly as his fork came to rest on his plate. "Then, care enough for me to give this situation the consideration it merits."

She sighed heavily. "For you, love, _anything_."

* * *

"I appreciate your seeing me on such short notice, Headmaster," Severus intoned stiffly, clearly uncomfortable under the older wizard's questioning gaze.

It was obvious that he knew, through his damnably powerful insight, what had happened between them and was not about to extend congratulations on their newfound love. His reticence to wish them joy and leave it at that brought a bright blaze of fury to Emily's heart. _Well, sod on your happiness too, you sanctimonious bastard_._ It's none of your business, anyway_.

A piercing blue gaze turned on her.

"You heard me," she bit out, sliding into her seat with a very unfriendly glare for the elder wizard.

"Emily," Severus warned quietly, in that tone that brooked no argument. It silenced her immediately and brought Dumbledore's gaze back around to Snape.

"You have news?" he asked, his tone betraying nothing but interest.

Severus was never one to beat about the bush. "Professor Corrigan is alive," he stated bluntly. "And with the enemy."

Albus closed his eyes against the news and crumpled back into his chair. Suddenly, he looked much, much older and Emily's heart, against her will, felt a sharp stab of pain for his sake.

"I had dared to hope that she was dead," Dumbledore continued sadly. "That is what this war has done to my ethics." He slid his half-moon spectacles from his nose and began wiping them absently on his sleeve. _A decidedly muggle gesture_, Emily thought wryly. _That's actually rather sweet_.

"Preferring to see our Runes Instructor dead rather than in the Dark Lord's thrall is hardly a reprehensible sentiment," Severus returned. "At least we know now who desecrated the school."

Dumbledore replaced his spectacles and brought his attention to his hands. "How could this happen? I had every confidence in her loyalty."

"Malfoy," Snape stated blankly. At Dumbledore's raised brow, he continued. "Seduced her."

"Ah," Albus answered with a sad shake of his head. " Lust is a powerful medium. Leave it to Voldemort and his minions to subvert something so good and pure. From whom did you discover this?"

"Again, Malfoy."

A silver eyebrow raised, prompting Severus to continue the tale.

He spun the web with practiced ease, weaving a wealth of truth with the occasional exclusion of detail or embellished fact, and in the end Emily had a difficult time not believing his version of events, which was basically the same with the exception of the events of Solstice, the time at which various events occurred and, much to Emily's delight, the fact that she had initially planned to follow Malfoy's order. In Severus' version of events, she came straight to him with the truth and asked him for help. That was when they formulated the plan for trapping Lucius.

In the end, Dumbledore sat with his fingers steepled together on the ancient desk and contemplated them both. His eyes were guarded, almost wary as his gaze moved between a very nervous Emily and a completely unruffled Severus. Then, wearily, he spoke.

"As much as I dread your answer, Severus, you know that I must ask you how you obtained this information from a wizard as powerful as Lucius Malfoy." He sighed deeply and eyed the potions master over his spectacles. "And how you came to be unconcerned enough about his knowledge of your position to release him."

Severus never batted an eye. "I did what I had to do, Headmaster. As always."

Albus sat back heavily. "Oh, Severus," he murmured, his voice quiet, but thick with dread. For a moment, he pinched the bridge of his nose, then looked up at Emily. "I believe that Molly will have breakfast ready by now, Miss Grey. Perhaps, you would excuse us while we discuss..."

"I'm not leaving," she asserted flatly.

Blue eyes steeled. "I would prefer that you do, child."

"I'm not a child," she answered angrily, "and you have no right to criticize Severus for doing what he had to do. Just because your too damn noble to..." She suddenly found herself arguing with a roomful of surprised-looking strangers.

"Morning, Em," Remus greeted cheerfully from the end of the long table. "No longer part of the meeting, are we?" he asked with a small chuckle. "Oh, don't look so angry. He's done the same to me on occasion."

"And me," piped an agreeable voice from the other end.

The source of this one was harder to locate, buried as he was in a sea of hair as red as his own. He was a pleasant-faced gentleman, obviously father to the swarm of children with whom he was surrounded. Two stood out among them, though, a lovely young woman with long brown locks and a dark-haired and shyly handsome young man who had stared openly at her since her abrupt arrival.

_Ah, well_, she thought, _hardly surprising._ _I'd stare at me, too._

"Morning, Remus," she greeted over the heads of the children, trying to look less put out than she felt. Then, noticing the woman at the stove - _Gods, was she always cooking?_ - gave a brief nod and a smile. "Morning, Mrs. Weasley."

"Good morning, dear," Molly answered cheerily. "Remus, would you mind introducing everyone while I put something on for Emily? That's a dear."

"Oh, no, really, I'm quite alright," she began, but the protests went unheard as Remus began calling out names and she began extending her hand out of habit.

The red-haired children were all Weasleys as she guessed, and greeted her politely - all except the middle child, Ron, who gave her a reserved nod and a mere touch of his hand as if he were afraid she might somehow taint him. She was tempted to run a hand through her hair, allowing her sleeve to fall back and reveal the Dark Mark just to get a rise out of him, then suddenly realized that she was no longer a child. It was the first time she'd ever known her age to be a disappointment. With maturity that she hoped would've made Severus proud, she merely smiled politely and turned to greet the wildly grinning twins.

After that came Hermione, a girl with a warm smile and a wealth of intelligence in her eyes and lastly, Harry Potter, who extended his hand with a proudly-lifted chin as if he were bravely greeting death itself. _Oh, the little savior's a bit full of himself, isn't he_, she thought, recalling what Severus had told her about The Boy Who Lived. Remus had tried to paint a completely different picture of James Potter's son, but she knew better. The same arrogance was there, the same disdain for whomever he considered a lower life form - like Severus, or 'Snape', as the insolent little bastard chose to call him. But, never to his face. _Oh, Merlin, no. The little Gryffindor's not brave enough for that_. Better to hurl insults behind his back, never seeking to understand, never showing proper gratitude for the agony Sev had suffered to better serve Dumbledore's pet cause. _Oh, yes indeed_, she thought with well-concealed fury as he subtly wiped his hand on his robes, _little Harry is certainly his father's son_.

Breakfast was uneventful, everyone talking and laughing merrily, all except Harry and his brainless sidekick who chose to spend the rest of the meal talking with heads together in hushed tones while eyeing her suspiciously.

_Potty little brats._

"Could we see it?" came a whispered question from her left, one of the Weasley twins; it was impossible to tell which. "You know," he prompted at her puzzled glance, "_The Mark_."

She wished that the request had caught her off-guard, but it was all too easy to recall how curious she'd been at that age. She was actually surprised that they'd waited long enough for the attention of the other adults to be focused elsewhere. There was a bit of Slytherin in these boys, and she found that she immediately liked them for it. She smiled broadly and gave a subtle nod, moving her arm under the table and lifting the sleeve.

They were struck dumb for just a moment, then, "_Wicked_. You really were one."

"I really am one," she corrected lightly, returning her now-covered arm to its original position. "One doesn't simply retire from his service."

"So, will you become a spy?" asked one.

"Like Snape?" added the other without a second's pause.

She hesitated, wanting to correct their use of his surname, but it seemed harmless enough. They obviously used it out of habit rather than derision, and she had no desire whatsoever to sound like the uptight grown-up. "I'm really not sure," she answered hesitantly. "We haven't discussed it. Right now, I'm just concentrating on staying alive long enough to deal with the problem at the school. Speaking of which," she added, standing as a slightly angry-looking Severus entered with Dumbledore on his heel and the greetings began all over.

She was at his side in an instant.

"Are you alright, love?" she asked anxiously.

He gave a tight nod that drew the blood to her face. Obviously Dumbledore had not been overly-charitable about Sev's methods of persuasion with Malfoy. How _dare_ he question anything Sev had done? An everlasting curse on these excessively-noble, tight-arsed...

"I have to leave for a time," he said tersely.

"What do you mean 'for a time?'"

"Precisely that," he returned. "Dumbledore has insisted that we take the next two days to rest, and if I wish to spend them with you in peace, then there is something that I must attend to immediately." With that, he took her by the arm and drew her quietly from the room. Once out of eyesight, his demeanor changed entirely, smiling down at her as they walked to the door.

"Dumbledore will want a word with you soon, and then you may spend your time as you like. I do not anticipate this taking very long at all." He paused, a bemused expression on his face. "Perhaps you'd care to have Italian for dinner?"

She smiled roguishly. "In Italy?"

He nodded, just a hint of a playful grin at the corners of his mouth. "Naturally."

"Alright, that's a fair exchange," she relented with a light laugh. "But, don't keep me waiting too long. Some other handsome rogue may came along and steal me away."

With that, he seized her about the waist and pulled her roughly to him, claiming her mouth with a furiously possessive kiss. "Said rogue would risk your lover's wrath," he growled softly. "Not a very wise man."

_That_ got a laugh, and she buried her face in his robes to stifle the sound she knew he wouldn't want to travel. Heaven forefend his students ever discover that he had either charm or wit.

In time, her mirth subsided and she allowed him to direct her gaze back to his with a cool, calloused hand. "There is one more point of business between us, Emily, before I go."

Calmly, he reached into his robes, found one of the many hidden pockets, drew out a very familiar object, and held it up before her. Slowly, she slid it from his fingers with a hand that suddenly wouldn't remain still.

Thirteen inches. Yew. That same spark of belonging, of destiny, when she curled her fingers around it. No doubt whatsoever. It was her wand.

"Mab's heart, Sev," she breathed, hardly able to believe her eyes. "You said you destroyed it."

With a sarcastic smirk he turned on his heel and gracefully swept through the door, black cape billowing behind. Before the heavy oak came to a close, though, she heard the faint sound of his velvet voice saying, "my mistake," then the sharp crack that announced his exit.

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Lady Jenilyn: Oh, you read those, too? I haven't bought one of those in a long time. Maybe I'll indulge next week. Unfortunately, I didn't get to act this one out with The Loaf. I'm proud to say that he did not help in any way. This came from my own limited knowledge of what guys - well guys with any sensitivity (read, men) - feel when they're with a woman they care for. A few of the sentiments, though, came from my first experience with a woman. She treated me very much the way the way Severus treats Emily here. Every woman deserves that. My first time with a man was the exact opposite. I'll spare you the gory details of that nightmare. I was extremely nervous about the scene and am thrilled that it came over well. I think we both agree about Dumbledore sending Sev off to do his dirty work. Grr! I love that things are still up in the air with your story. As much as I like Lupin, I just don't see the Lupin/Miriel thing happening. And, for Merlin's sake don't ever, ever piss off Lucius! Bad, bad idea!

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cadpig: Oh, joy! I'm so happy I made you sweat. Hurray for me! And, yes, reading a love scene at work _has_ to be uncomfortable! Thanks for the good word, though. Hope to hear from you again.

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Elessar Evenstar: Speechless! Wow! Thanks. Glad your patience finally paid off.

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Sev lover: You know, that is exactly what I like about writing Sev's character. He can be damn near invincible. And, when something _does_ get to him, it's huge! Something like that is coming up, by the way, just between us. I'm glad you enjoyed the steamy scene.

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Dianatyne: I'm not sure if knowing that my love scene was better than work and the elections is in any way good news. Thank you for the compliment on it's being tasteful. I'm not overly fond of the really over-the-top scenes that use common street slang to describe things. That just doesn't feel right, not for me. No, this isn't the end, love. It's so touching that you want the story to continue. We're about three quarters of the way to the end. Still quite a way to go, and I hope you stick with me.

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Captain Oblivious!: Whoa! Hey! I'm reading some offense in there with the shock and the blinks. I'm so, so, sososososo sorry if the scene offended you. I would have written it anyway because it's an integral part of the story and I adore the idea of making to love to Sev... or Emily for that matter. But, had I known that it would bother you, I would've put a warning label on it or something. Really, really sorry I upset you and I hope you don't stop reading. I've really become rather attached to you, you epic reviewer, you. I won't get into what Severus went through in bending Lucius to his will, but I have alluded to some of the things he was forced to do (in the beginning of this chapter) and will give a few more indications in upcoming chapters. Fact is, Sev took him by surprise and that is the only way to get the better of a man like Lucius. Don't forget that, even though he's turned away from the darkness, Sev is still a bad ass in his own right. I'm really sorry about your cold, love. Hope you get better soon.

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Queen of the faeries: I have no idea, sweetie, the difference between the two. Someone explained it to me once and I got it for the moment, but lost it just as quickly because it didn't make much sense. It was a bit awkward in the beginning, I agree. I had a hell of time trying to convey what he was thinking without filling up the scene with dialog. Gods, I hate it when two characters babble all the way through a love scene! Drives me up the frickin' wall! Anyway, it's clearly something I'll need to work on. Ooohh.. a cookie? I LOVE cookies! Is it a fresh-baked peanut butter cookie still warm from the oven?

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Sesshomaru's Angel: Then, I'll keep my fingers crossed that someone wonderful comes along who befriends you with his wit and creativity and then sweeps you off your feet when he tells that he's madly in love with you because of all the qualities that most people, even your closest friends, find annoying. That's what happened to me, but I had to go through a lot of frogs to get my prince. I hope your journey will be smoother. Oh, and I'm glad you liked the chapter.

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Asha ice: Oh, yes. Evil to the core, but I'm glad to have you anyway.


	27. Chapter TwentySeven: Questions

**Author's note:** Oh, my Gods! I didn't think I'd ever get this chapter out. Please raise your teacups to my poor little Beta reader, Loaf. He's fallen ill and had to really put some effort into helping me get this one ready for posting.

**Chapter Twenty-Seven: Questions**

"How are you today, Miss Grey?" Dumbledore asked kindly.

She hesitated, somewhat baffled by his change in demeanor since he'd banished her from the room an hour ago. "I'm... fairly well, sir," she answered hesitantly. "A bit worried about Severus."

"Severus and I had a difference of opinion," he stated calmly, "which we have now discussed and settled. You have no cause for concern."

Blankly, she nodded, not quite certain she believed him. Severus had certainly seemed in good spirits when he left, but appearances were rarely accurate indications of his true frame of mind. Already, she was tapping, anxious to be out of that room and free of the Headmaster's intense blue eyes. He smiled indulgently at the restless hand and she ceased its movement at once, feeling like an errant student once again, caught in one of her many indiscretions.

"I don't wish to take much of your time, Miss Grey. I merely wished to pass along a bit of information."

"Yes," she prompted, trying not to sound as anxious as she was. After all, Severus had assured her that there was very little chance she would not be freed, but nothing was certain and if the Ministry decided to keep her imprisoned... well, she'd take her own life before she returned to Azkaban.

"I have brought your case before the Wizengamot, and allowed Remus to join his testimony with my appeal," Dumbledore began. "The majority seems to be in favor of setting you free, not only for your service to the school, but also your selfless actions at the lake. An official decision will be withheld, however, until your task is complete. I am almost certain that you will be freed."

There was no help for it, no matter how composed she wanted to be, in the face of such news, she couldn't suppress the laughter that bubbled up from within and escaped through the fingers pressed tightly to her mouth. In the moment it took for the laughter to come to tears, Albus was beside her, patting her hand like a sympathetic stranger. It didn't last long, just a few moments of tearful, giddy joy before she wiped her eyes and quieted again.

"Thank you, sir," she said shakily. "You can't know what this means to me."

"I _hope_ that it means you will make a fresh start, a clean break from the past. Perhaps you will begin a new life... with all of the things I know you dreamed of as a youth."

"I'll be satisfied to just have some sort of life with Severus and sod the rest of it."

Albus smiled softly. "I believe you may have that. Now, if I may..." His face changed, sobered. "I have heard Severus' explanation of your decision to disobey Lucius. I should like to hear yours."

Emily scrubbed her face, wondering whether the blatant truth would compromise her freedom. "I didn't disobey him, sir," she answered finally. "I simply found myself unable to follow orders."

His brow furrowed only slightly, yet it changed his appearance at once from serene to menacing. "Why?" he asked simply.

"Because I'm in love."

"In love?" he repeated mildly. She inclined her head slightly, and he studied her for a long while. "Do you still consider yourself to be a Death Eater?"

"Are you inviting me to join the Order?"

"No," he answered firmly. "It is a simple question. Are you still a loyal follower of Voldemort?"

She flinched at the sound of her master's name, but if he noticed her discomfort, he ignored it completely.

"Sir," she began carefully. "I tried to explain this to Sev but he wouldn't hear it. Ultimately, my deepest loyalty is to Severus, now more than ever. If he were not involved in your ill-advised insurrection, I wouldn't be here. I would be at my master's feet - the only place I've ever felt I belonged outside Sev's company." She leaned forward and placed a hand on his arm, lightly, opening her mind completely to him, allowing him to see the truth of her words. "But, if there is even the slightest chance that my master can be defeated and Severus spared, then I'll take it, whatever the risk."

A long silence ensued in which the two enemies studied one another. Finally, Albus spoke. "Thank you for your refreshing candor," he said simply, rising to his feet. "And I do hope that you enjoy your brief sabbatical."

She chuckled lightly, surprise still holding her to her seat. "So, you're just... letting me go?"

"Not exactly," he answered mildly. "I am releasing you into Remus Lupin's care until Severus returns. Please make no mistake. You are not a free entity, yet. However," he added, opening the door as she stood, "you are reconsidering your position in this war because you are in love. There are certainly less noble reasons to do so, Severus Snape's included."

With a broad grin and a nod she crossed the room, drawing close to him once more "One last point, Miss Grey, before you go," he said, searching her eyes with what passed as a scowl for the elder wizard. "I suggest that you avoid drawing _either_ of those wands unless absolutely necessary."

The smile melted from her face as if it had never been. How in Mab's name did he know? Surely Severus hadn't...

"Severus tells me very little," he said with a flash of anger in his eyes. "Much less than he should. Thankfully, I do not require that he do so. I also do not need for him to tell me that you have attacked him at least once since your release from Azkaban." He paused to fix her with the most frightening glare she'd ever seen from the kindly old wizard. "Because of my great respect for Severus, I will not disarm you as I should. _However_, if I hear of your attacking anything or anyone for _any_ reason other than in defense of your own life, if you so much as look askance at any member of the Order, you will answer to me, personally."

A sudden swell of raw power so great that it compromised her balance, swept around and through her, like an angry wind, yet disturbing nothing, not even straying a hair. The air in the room went ice-cold and caused her breath to scrape through her lungs as if she'd swallowed several shards of glass. Struggling to keep her feet as his strength coursed through her, she realized suddenly why her master was so terrified of this man. It was difficult for her to even face him as he delivered his silent warning without any apparent exertion, and after a few moments the power abated, seemed to draw itself back into the elder wizard who looked down on her now with a tranquil expression.

"Make no mistake, Miss Grey, my patience, particularly with those loyal to Voldemort, does have its limits. One hopes that you are wise enough to refrain from testing them."

A slow smile crept across her face. The stern warning almost going unnoticed. What such a noble creature would do to her was nothing compared to the threat of her master's wrath which hung over every Death Eater's head like a poised dragon. But, the power the man wielded was truly incredible. She now understood where Severus came by this hope that they may yet have a chance of defeating the most evil wizard to ever live.

"Good day, child," Albus said at last.

"Good day, sir," she returned, her voice much more humbled than her spirit.

* * *

Half an hour later, Emily was still talking about it as Remus listened patiently.

"You should have felt it, Remus," she gushed. "It was indescribable. My knees nearly buckled."

He chuckled lightly. "Albus is not a wizard to be trifled with. And you, my lady, are exceedingly obsessed with power," he remarked with a curious stare. "Is that what drew you to Voldemort?"

"Will you people _please_ stop saying that?!"

He laughed again. "It's only a name, Emily. Fearing to speak it merely encourages the irrational fear."

"Irrational?" she spat incredulously. "Have you ever met the dark lord, Remus, face to face?"

"No," he answered quietly. "I've not."

"Then you've never called him _by his name?_ _To his face_?"

He shook his head slowly, a scowl drawing lines across his forehead.

"I saw a woman do so once - a muggle - at his command." She let go a sharp, bitter laugh. "Using her as fodder in order to drive his point home to us, no doubt."

"What happened?"

She swallowed thickly, remembering the night, against her will, in vivid detail. "First he allowed his highest officers to have their way with her while she was bound and tortured. Then, he forced her to scream his name and only his name, over and over, under the Imperius, as he ripped the layers of skin from her body... one by one, very, very slowly... until finally she died in unholy agony, with his name on her lips."

"Fates preserve us," Lupin muttered under his breath.

"I had to destroy the robes and boots I wore that night. The blood refused to come out." She leaned a bit closer to his now-ashen face. "Believe me, Remus, none of us who lived through that will _ever_ be able to hear his name uttered without a shudder, at the very least."

He nodded wordlessly, studying his hands very closely. "I understand," he whispered, then returned his pained gaze to her face. "How did you come to be involved with such a monster?"

"Severus," she answered simply.

His mouth tightened. "Severus talked you into joining Vold... the dark lord?" She smiled slightly at his desire to avoid disturbing her with the mention of her master's name. "I thought you two parted ways in school... when you were fifteen? Sixteen?"

She nodded lightly. "Fifteen. And, no. He actually tried to talk me out of joining."

Remus gave a confused look, prompting her to clarify. "Taking the Mark, for me, was an act of absolute defiance; against my father who expected me to uphold the family name by marrying a man I didn't love and bearing his pureblood children, my brother who laid that burden at my feet, and my mother who had the audacity to die, leaving me to be the woman of the house. Mostly, though, I joined him to prove myself to Severus."

"But, he didn't want you to do it?"

"No," she shook her head ruefully. "At that point, he'd been a Death Eater for over a year and, as usual, he saw the entire picture when I saw only a fraction." Her thoughts strayed for a moment, recalling her experiences as a Death Eater, a scattered few she wouldn't trade for all the world, most she would give anything to forget. With a long, sad sigh, she added. "I should've listened to him."

"Why didn't you?"

"Because I wanted to hurt him. I thought that he was being condescending, suggesting, actually telling me outright, that I had no idea what I was doing. _Sweet fucking Merlin_," she hissed angrily. "All that misery only to find that he was right... as usual." She laughed bitterly, rubbing the Mark on her arm. "And, now I'm trapped."

Remus ran a hand through graying hair. "Somehow, I doubt that," he said kindly. "But, you are rather stuck with my company until Severus' return. How now for the notorious Miss Grey?"

"Well... _now_, if it wouldn't inconvenience my warden at all, I should like to go home."

"To your family home?" he asked, somewhat taken aback.

"Well, it's only _my_ home, now," she answered sadly, "but yes."

"'Right," Lupin began brightly, rising to his feet, "I am at my Lady's service." Crossing the room to the door, he waited, hand extended in invitation, and a wickedly sexy smile on his face.

"You are such a charmer, Remus," she chuckled, taking the proffered hand. "Just let Severus catch you trying to vie for my affections."

"Believe me, I am as afraid of Severus Snape as any wise man should be. I shall use the utmost discretion in our affair, Madam," he said dramatically. "For both our sakes."

The sound of their laughter followed them through the house and out the door.

* * *

The day passed so pleasantly in Lupin's company that Emily didn't begin to worry until Molly called them for dinner shortly after they returned home. Suddenly, she had a very real sense of the time which had obviously passed, and her heart sank in her chest as she glanced at the clock, then at Remus.

"He'll be fine, Emily," Lupin said calmly, knowing immediately what brought the look of concern to her face.

"How can you know that?" she asked, already feeling the first stages of panic.

"Because he's Severus Snape, and he's _always_ fine."

She shook her head emphatically. "I don't like this, Remus. I'm going to find him," she declared, tugging on her boots.

"And where do you propose to look?"

"Anywhere," she snapped. "Everywhere. He can't have just disappeared."

Lupin stepped forward and placed a hand lightly on her arm. "He's been known to do just that for days at a time. That's... just Severus."

"No, that's me," she argued. "Severus is the responsible one. Dependable. Reliable."

"And often unavoidably detained," he finished, his composure still unperturbed. "Did he give you no hint of what he was leaving to accomplish?"

She sighed and sank into a nearby chair. "No. None at all, just said he had something to attend to."

"Did he seem anxious?"

"No. Perfectly at ease, and certain that he'd be back in a few hours." It was that thought that started her hands shaking, the memory of his serene face as he left her. He had indeed been perfectly at ease... _unguarded_, wholly unprepared for the worst.

"Oh, gods, Remus, where is he? Where _is_ he?" she breathed, covering her face with trembling hands. "Why wasn't I paying attention? What have I been doing all day? I have to go!" She was up and halfway to the door. "I have to find him!"

The smooth, quick swish of a wand being unsheathed caught her ear, but before she could even turn about, Remus had spoken... several words in succession. She felt hot, then cold, then dizzy, then became lost in the curious sensation of sinking into a wonderfully warm bath and time seemed to melt away.

She shook her head, trying to clear it.

Suddenly she remembered that Remus had spoken and she turned back from the door.

"What did you say, Remus?" she asked brightly.

"I said we should hurry," he answered with a curiously guarded smile. "Molly hates to be kept waiting."

"Well, we wouldn't want to piss off mumsy, would we?" she laughed brightly.

"It's never a good idea," he answered.

With that, they turned to go to dinner, laughing as they descended the stairs, not a care in the world.

* * *

****

**Intel Ewok:** Hi! It's good to have you back. I missed you! Hope that your stress level has now decreased and your time is freed up to do the important things like cuddle up with a cup of tea and read fanfic.

**Sesshomaru's Angel:** Don't worry. I'm not sure exactly how many chapters we have to go until the end, but I can tell you that the story hasn't reached its climax, yet, so the resolution is really nowhere in sight. And, after that, the last installment of the Alex stories. Fun, fun, fun! I miss Alex.

**Laura:** Thanks for the encouragement.

**Sev lover:** Hey, thanks for the compliment. I'm a much bigger fan of angst than fluff, so I try to keep the soft stuff to bare minimum. You've almost seen the last of it.

**Queen of the faeries 1:** Oh, my goodness! Thanks so much for the cookie. I'm still coming down from the rush over here. Those things are better than sex, I swear! As for Dumbledore, I've never seen him as the sweet grandfatherly type, so it's hard for me to write him that way. It's not that I hate the guy. It's just that, if one looks at his position and the things he does rather than the things he says, he's a much darker character. I'm intrigued by that side of him, so I'm glad you approve.

**Dianatyne:** I love the point you made at the beginning of your review about bleeding hearts. I've always felt that way, but until I read your words, I had no concise way of actually expressing it... so thank you. And, it's a relief to know that you'll be here when I post the last chapter. I've grown to be quite fond of you.

**Captain Oblivious!:** I'm glad that you approve of Dumbledore. I'm actually not in love with his character as it is spelled out in the books, but (as I pointed out to Queen of the Faeries) I think that there's a darker side there that's fun to play with. I wholly agree with you about Harry Please-Pet-Me Potter. I'm glad you're feeing better, sweetie. That's the best part about getting sick.

**Lady Jenilyn:** I noticed that about Sev never having any friends, as well, and that was part of the reason I just had to write this. There's a good bit of Severus' and Emily's history shared with the Weasley clan in the next chapter. Opinions will be ruined and established and fortified, so hopefully, that'll be fun. The twins should have been Slytherin. I agree. You do a great job writing Molly's nosey, over-protective, goody-goody side in your story. I love how you portray her! It's the way I've always read her, yet never seen her represented in fanfics. Go get that thesis, girl! I have great faith in you!

**1 Lonely Angel:** Ooohh... Sorry about your laptop. I'm glad that everything seems to be squared away now. I really want to pull all of the Order members into this one, but I have to be careful to avoid taking things to the extremes. I, like you, wanted to know much more than what was told about what goes on in that house. As for Sev, I don't think he would spend much time there at all. He's just not that interested in being with others... rather like yours truly. I don't think of myself as being modest, just honest about myself. I'm no Anne Rice or R.A. Salvatore or J.K. Rowling, but I hope I spin a fairly tolerable yarn and keep it interesting. After all, that's what fanfiction is all about. Fans entertaining other fans. If we take it much further than that, well... things start to get ugly. I'm so happy that you enjoy my work. That's why I share it.

**Asha Ice:** Well, Remus does like Harry, yes, but I think everyone likes him more than Severus does. I was going to delve deeper into that in this story, but I've decided to just, more or less, leave it be.


	28. Chapter TwentyEight: Tales of Mischief

**Author's note:** Also known as a desperate plea for understanding. I have not updated in a week, this is true, but remember my telling you guys that the Loaf had the flu? Well, in the spirit of a very open, giving and loving relationship... That's right, my darlings, he gave it to me! Isn't that sweet? I could just kick him... and I probably will just as soon as I can move without groaning. Sorry about the delay. I'll be a better girl from now on, I promise. If not, you can tie me up and spank me. But oh no! Please don't throw me in the briar patch!

* * *

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Chapter Twenty-Eight: Tales of Mischief

"You turned the entire hall into a _swamp_?!" Emily threw back her head and howled. "Are you completely mad?"

"Well, in one sense of the term," said one Weasley twin.

"We rather were," the other finished. "That Umbridge bitch..."

"Language!" Mrs. Weasley snapped from the other end of the table.

"Sorry, mum," he returned absently. "That Umbridge _individual_..."

"For it would be a stretch to call her a person..."

"Made Hogwarts intolerable and therefore..."

"...made further scholastic achievement utterly impossible!"

Emily wiped the tears of mirth from her eyes. Talking with the Weasley twins about their exploits at Hogwarts was the most fun she'd had in a longer time than she could recall. Somewhere, though, behind the giddy, nearly-drunken happiness into which she had mysteriously fallen, lurked a deep ache, a longing for her own twin that she had not felt in years.

She had refused to visit Eric's room when she and Lupin had explored her home, but passing the place where he had died had been unavoidable. For a long time, she had stood and stared at the blackened crater in the floor, the only visible sign that anything untoward had occurred there. She hadn't cried as she expected she would, hadn't even felt the myriad of overwhelming emotions she would've anticipated. There was only a sense of cold, a gaping void in her soul where Eric had once laughed and cried and breathed. It was the first time she'd really felt it, the everlasting, irretrievable loss of an intimate part of her being, a desperate, aching need for the closeness of blood ties and family. Her father, her brother, her mother - all lost. Now there was only Emily, outwardly wholly restored, but inside, a mere shell of the witch she'd once been.

There had been a pall in her disposition after that, but she accomplished what she'd gone there to do and returned to the Order's headquarters in Lupin's company... where something had happened, something she couldn't quite recall. The more she tried to focus on it, the more it slipped away, like trying to hold tightly to a sliver of ice. The moment she closed in on the memory, it was gone. And, the curious sense of urgency was replaced with this helpless merriment that at once greatly pleased her and made her ill.

"Well, I must say that that is the most spectacular exit I have ever heard," she gushed. "And, I wish to Merlin I had been there to see it!"

"You're a few years too late, Em," Lupin broke in. "And, as I recall, you achieved a few feats of grandeur yourself at school."

"Oh, I played a few pranks," she chuckled, "but nothing on as grand a scale as that."

Lupin refused to back down. "I seem to remember a few acts of mischief that would've had most others expelled, possibly even imprisoned."

The room went awkwardly quiet at the mention of prison, Emily's most recent home, and she lowered her head with an uncomfortable smile. "Well, all things in due time, right?"

Lupin opened his mouth, most likely to offer an apology which would've made her even more uncomfortable, but Fred, or was it George, saved them both the embarrassment.

"Well, let's hear of these splendid exploits of yours!"

His levity in light of the suddenly somber mood brought her spirits back up at an unnaturally rapid pace. She shook her head, taking a long pull from her glass. "You started this, Remus. You can bloody well finish it."

"Oh, if you insist, my lady," he answered eagerly, turning to the twins. "My absolute favorite was the time she sent a howler to Professor McGonagall."

Her eyes suddenly flew as wide as her grin. "I didn't tell Eric about that. How did you know that was me?"

"Emily," he answered reproachfully, "everyone knew it was you, even the Professor. But, as the howler immediately combusted," he said, returning his attention to the twins, "there was no evidence."

"An inevitable perk, I admit," she acknowledged with a broad grin.

"So, the howler?" Fred prompted. It was Fred, she noticed, who began most of their shared diatribes.

"Ah, yes," Lupin continued. "I don't recall what year we were in."

"Sixth," Emily mumbled through a mouthful of rice pudding.

"Sixth, then," Lupin agreed. "It was a typical morning, just barely springtime. There was a cheery, cloudless sky, under which the entire student body was having its breakfast. At the usual time, the mail arrived and just as we began to open our offerings, the telltale shriek of a howler ripped through the hall drawing everyone's attention at once to the high table where Professor McGonagall sat, gaping open-mouthed and wide-eyed at this blood-red letter unfolding itself and splitting into a red-lipped grimace."

The twins leaned forward simultaneously as he continued. "It screeched for all to hear that the Aphrodite Escort Service did not offer refunds of its services when the escort in question had not been told of the medical frigidity of the client, and if she did not cease and desist all inquiries therein, she would be prosecuted to the fullest extent of the law." He had to raise his voice now to be heard over the howling laughter of the entire family, even Molly. "It went on to add that if the service provider did not recover from the severe exhaustion she had suffered in the attempt to please the client, the Escort Service would be forced to pursue the matter further."

The entire table was rolling now, even the usually docile Hermione, and Emily herself was blushing hotly at the memory of the prank. It had been McGonagall's own fault, though, calling her down in class for falling asleepwith the faintestinsinuation that if she spent more time working above the neck,she might be better able to focus on her studies. Emily had been furious, livid really, at the unfounded, though only vaguely alluded, accusation. Automatically, her eyes had found Sev's and had been crushed to see that he obviously believed the rumors as well. The piercing black gaze held nothing but loathing for her, and she immediately decided to return the Professor's favor.

"That's fantastic!" Fred was shouting over the din of applause and whistles.

"Perhaps just as fantastic was using a permanent sticking charm on the drawers of the Headmaster's desk," Arthur piped in, "or pouring time-release itching powder into the Ravenclaw Quidditch uniforms or, my personal favorite, feigning her own death in History of Magic class."

"Arthur, no!" Molly interrupted. "We still have children in school, you know. Very _impressionable_ children!"

"How did you manage that?" Ginny asked, ignoring her mother entirely.

"Absolutely not!" Molly shouted. "She barely avoided expulsion. Her father had to appear before the school board on her behalf to convince them that she was mentally stable enough to finish her education."

"Sorry, Ginny," Emily called down the table. "But, your Mum might be right. It was rather a dangerous trick."

"What about Snape?" Fred asked excitedly. "You were friends, right? What was he like in school?"

Her smile faltered.

Where the devil _was_ Severus, anyway? Shouldn't she be with him instead of these...

"Is there anything left for a hungry old man?" came a kindly voice from the far end of the table. All heads turned at once to see the Headmaster settled in a chair which had been unoccupied only moments ago.

"Good evening, Albus!" Molly greeted warmly. "I hoped you'd have time for a bit of supper." She was immediately up and bustling around the kitchen.

When a plate of meatballs was placed before him, he smiled affectionately. "Molly, you _are_ a wonder, but I do wish that you wouldn't insist on serving me."

"Nonsense," she cooed. "It's no trouble at all."

He shook his head in a mildly amused fashion. "Well, then, I believe you were discussing Professor Snape's illustrious Hogwarts career?" he prompted, looking at Emily serenely.

"Yes, we were," George agreed excitedly. "Miss Grey was about to let us in on all the dirty details."

"Alright, first of all, it's Emily," she corrected lightly. "There's no need for all that formality. And, secondly, I'm sorry to announce that Severus was smart enough to avoid the trouble I often caused. In our younger days, there _were_ a few near misses. He did, I'm sorry to say, share my ban from Hogsmeade trips from our second year on, but other than that, Lucius made certain that Severus kept out of the way of the repercussions from my indiscretions."

"Why Mr. Malfoy?" Ron asked at the same time Ginny asked why they were banned from Hogsmeade trips.

"Well, we were banned from Hogsmeade," she said, pointedly answering Ginny instead of Ron, "when I retaliated against some nasty little gits who were sending sparks at Sev's hair in the Three Broomsticks." Here, she glared at Remus, and a small voice floated from all the way down the table.

"Let me guess," Harry prompted.

"I don't think it's necessary to name names, Potter," she answered bitterly. "But, would you like to know how long your father was in the hospital wing?"

"Emily," Dumbledore said sternly. "That will do."

"Why?" she argued fiercely. "Has no one told him what a bullying arse his father was? Oh, let me guess," she continued before anyone could answer, "you're all protecting the little orphaned savior from the truth."

Dumbledore opened his mouth, along with several others, but it was Harry who spoke first. "Yes. They are. But that's changing..." He eyed the adults at the table, almost accusingly - almost, but not quite. "Slowly."

"Well, if you'd like to speed the process, I'd be happy to accommodate you," she answered. "As to why Lucius attempted to shield Severus from repercussion," she continued before the table could erupt, "that was related to the long history of close association had by the Snapes and Malfoys. I think that he sensed Sev's potential even as a child and didn't wish to waste an opportunity for personal gain."

"Yeah, Snape's love for the Malfoys is pretty obvious at school," Ron said nastily.

"It's '_Professor_ Snape' to you, young man," Emily shot back. "And, if you think he has any love for the Malfoys then you are trulyignorant."

"He is not ignorant!" Hermione broke in hotly.

"No?" Emily asked soberly. "He isn't _lacking in knowledge_? Can you really attest to that?" Hermione hesitated, and in that moment Emily spoke again. "I assure you that all of you are incredibly ignorant about Severus Snape. And you," she said angrily to Ron, "having such an intense dislike for Lucius Malfoy could show a bit more respect to the one man who has spit inthe face of the dark lord's right hand and lived to tell the tale." She gave a tiny snort. "Not that he'd ever do that.Merlin forbidanyone know even that much about him."

"Well, don't stop there," Fred begged.

"Tell us everything," George added.

Emily looked to Albus, who undoubtedly knew the story. "That might be a bit much for dinner conversation," she prompted, looking for permission to elaborate.

"Well, as I am the only one who is still dining - and I assure you that I have quite a strong stomach - I encourage you to continue." Mrs. Weasley opened her mouth to protest, but Albus cut her off with a raised hand. "Perhaps it would be good for them to understand what truly occurs in that hateful circle, lest any of them ever be tempted. Desperate times, Molly..." he asserted soberly.

It was all the encouragement Emily needed.

"It was about two years after I took the Mark," she began as every eye turned to her. "Lucius and I had been sent on an errand to settle an alliance between the dark lord and a pack of werewolves in the Dering Woods outside Pluckley."

"There are werewolves in the Screaming Woods?" Ron interrupted incredulously.

"Had you been paying attention in Care of Magical Creatures last year, you'd know that," Hermione returned smartly.

Emily smirked as Ron blushed bright red, then continued...

* * *

Night had recently fallen, but the moon was two days past its fullness. Perhaps that was why Emily wasn't as wary as she would have been otherwise, why she was surrounded by six of them before she even realized they were not alone. Lucius was pointedly outside the circle of werewolves, looking in with cold, cold eyes. A slight shift of bodies allowed him entrance and, in a moment, he was smiling, eyeing her just as hungrily as the others.

Looking around uncertainly, she began to formulate a thousand different reasons for why she had been ordered to come with Lucius on this mission. Her sarcasm had always kept her from being chosen for diplomatic assignments, but Lucius - well, Lucius could charm a goblin out of its gold on his worst day. Diplomacy was normally reserved for him. Perhaps she was meant to learn from him, she had decided finally. There was really not much else that would explain why he had told her to follow his lead, remember her duty to her master, and above all to keep her mouth shut while he bargained. But, now she began to wonder.

The tallest and strongest of them, the alpha male, no doubt - a dark, feral man who rivaled Lucius in his primal allure - stepped forward first to brush his fingers through Emily's auburn hair. Out of habit, she slapped the hand away. A low rumble in his chest sent her skin to shivering.

"Your offering does not appear to be willing, Master Malfoy," he fairly growled. "She stinks of fear. Does she even know why you have brought her?"

Emily's heart began to flutter in her chest. She should have known.

"It makes no difference," Lucius answered with practiced calm, eyeing her with a silent warning. "She will do as she is told, but you will return her **unharmed** before the next full moon," he added sternly. "I should hate to see such pure blood tainted."

The lycanthrope turned swiftly on his heel to face Lucius. "Are we tainted, Death Eater?" he growled.

"You know that you are," Lucius answered coolly. "Just as certainly as the rest of society knows. My master offers you an opportunity to use your dark gifts, to have a network of strength other than your own pack in the war to come. And an opportunity to mate within our circle, as you requested."

"Lucius, please," Emily found herself begging in what was barely a whisper. He ignored her completely.

"Your master does not seem to mind forcing an unbroken female to mate against her will," the werewolf returned. "Perhaps he is less human than we."

Lucius was no longer paying attention. His eyes had been riveted on her since the mention of her 'unbroken' status. It was not a friendly gaze.

"If your female is unwilling..."

"She is quite willing to do whatever her master requires of her," Lucius asserted in a voice which brooked no argument as hestepped forward to regard her more closely. "Are you not?"

She was shaking her head before he finished the question. "No, please. Not this."

Incredulousgray eyes searched green for a long moment. "Who has wrought this chastity, this revolting purity in you?" he breathed with a disgusted curl of his lip.

To her credit, she was able to keep her beloved's name from her mind for at least a full breath, but at the end of her exhale, Lucius' lovely face twisted into an ugly sneer. "Severus," he hissed. "I might have known."

* * *

**Dianatyne:**: Or, is Remus acting of his own volition... and is that less sinister or more so? Now you have Or, is Remus acting of his own volition... and is that less sinister or more so? Now you have me wondering! I did not update quickly this time (please see author's note) so I must assume that have indeed amused yourself with a real live book. I'm reading two right now that keep me constantly occupied while not writing. By the by, Lady Jenilyn's story was just updated, so once you finish this chapter, you may want to zip over to 'Mirror of My Dreams', a really unique and imaginative piece. You'll like it. I promise! Actually, I've thought about visiting DC... just to see the sights, and when I do, I'll take you up on your generous offer. I'd love to meet you.

**Oya:** Lupin did a multi-layer whammie on Emily. I'll give details in a few chapters. I'm a little worried about Sev, myself. Where could he be?

**Sesshomaru's Angel:** You should go look for Sev. It's getting dark out. As for Remus, as I told Oya, he did a multi-layer whammie, a very cool little trick, but I'll have to explain later. You could try to kiss Emily's story out of Remus. I certainly couldn't blame you. For a guy, he's fairly hot.

**Teenage Zombie:** Oh, thanks. I was so worried about getting Dumbledore just right. That means a lot to me! No, Remus, just like most other Gryffindors, has no qualms about bending the rules to suit his own purposes.

**1 Lonely angel:** Ooohhh... I have knack? Hurray for me! I so rarely have a knack for anything. No, really. I'm quite backward in the real world. Your compliments take my breath away... and keep me writing and writing and writing. Thank you, sweetie. I certainly love getting my 'thankies' from you

**Elessar Evenstar:** Yes, clever little Gryffindor, isn't he? And, Sev is causing quite a bit of concern. I hope he's alright. Thank you for the compliment on Dumbledore, as I told Teenage Zombie, I was really concerned about getting his character just right, so the good word is quite appreciated. Worried about Remus and Emily? Good... good.... Escaped rubs hands together and chuckles darkly. Thank you so much for your kind words. They mean the world to me.

**Silverthreads:** Why thank you, sweetie! What a nice thing to say!

**Sev lover:** We will find out about the complex voodoo Remus whipped out in a chapter or two, I promise. He's really a sneaky little bastard when he wants to be. I respect that.

**Captain Oblivious!:** I love it when you read between the lines. It keeps me on my toes. Sev is in a less-than-pleasant situation, right now. That's all I can say. Perhaps you should be afraid... on a certain level. Yeah, Dumbledore's fun to toy with. There's a lot of personality there to tweak. I've found that, most of the time, friends do well enough when left to their own devices as long as those times do not represent the majority. I'm so pleased that you were able to spend the holiday at home. As you've likely gotten back, now, may I ask how your friends fared and whether you had a wonderful time?

**Intel Ewok:** Hey, thanks for the good word. Dumbledore is one of the hardest characters to nail down that I've ever written. I'm finding, much to my frustration, that a relatively-good-guy Sev is damnably difficult to write as well. I'm actually looking forward to returning to his less than noble counterpart in the Alex stories. As for Sev's whereabouts, he... rather has his hands full at the moment.

**Lady Jenilyn:** No harm done, sweetie. It took me a while to get out of bed long enough to get my reviews! Okay. Actually, that's a lie. The loaf printed them and brought them to me in bed (isn't he sweet?), but the basic concept remains the same. I'm so so sorry about your thesis. Wicked, wicked teacher! Let's hex her/him! Thank you so much for your kind words about Dumbledore's character. I wanted to show his darker, more powerful side without taking it too far, and was extremely concerned that I'd overdone it. I have to say that Rowling's view of Dumbledore is a really big help to my own concept of his character. I may just be able to revise some of his upcoming scenes with that tidbit. Thanks, Jenilyn. You are ever a blessing. Severus is... very occupied and Remus... well, you read the other review answers, don't you? So, you know. And, no, my little darling, I would never, ever toy with anyone's emotions. That's just mean! And, I certainly don't giggle delightedly about the wonderfully heated reactions that come after a confusing chapter. I'm not cruel enough to take wanton pleasure from a thing like that. Yeah... like you don't do the same thing. (Punches Jenilyn gently on the arm) You... cauldron calling the kettle black!


	29. Chapter TwentyNine: Poison

**Authors Note**: Sorry that this chapter is late. For some reason, I couldn't seem to log on to the site. Oh, and if certain words are strung together, I apologize, but the site isn't uploading chapters correctly now. Go figure.

**Chapter Twenty-Nine: Poison**

The werewolves refused Voldemort's offer outright, and an hour later, Emily found herself in an all-too-familiar situation: prostrate at the feet of a furious Lucius Malfoy, readying herself for the inevitable 'discipline' that was to come. But, to her great surprise, as she waited, every nerve tensed in anticipation of agony, he turned on his heel and stalked to the hearth instead.

A handful of floo powder preceded his call for Severus, and she cringed, knowing that he had some new wickedness in mind. When the tall, dark wizard entered, he was wearing his typically cold, bored expression. It shifted instantly when he spotted Emily on the floor behind Lucius. He was afraid, that much she read in his eyes, in the instant his guard fell. The mask of indifference was back in place before she could take a second glance, though, leaving her to wonder if she had only been imagining his concern.

Lucius, for his part, circled behind her sprawled form and conjured a chair and a glass of wine before finally speaking.

"Severus, this woman has disobeyed a direct order to mate with the creatures of Dering Woods and in doing so has ruined any chance of alliance." he said carefully, sliding into the seat.

Severus waited a moment before prompting, "And, why have you interrupted my work?"

"I have had an immensely trying day and find myself too exhausted to discipline her. As I am familiar with your gift for causing pain, I shall allow the task to fall to you, instead."

Her heart began to race. 'This is going to be bad', she thought, barely stifling a panicked laugh.

"You wish for me to punish her?" Severus asked, seeming only to need clarification of his task. But Emily knew well that slight waver in his tone and it sent a great surge of warmth flooding through her. For Severus, it was damn near representative of a state of panic.

He didn't want to hurt her.

She smiled softly, hiding her face in the crook of her arm. Maybe there was still something there.

Apparently, there was a silent exchange between the two of them, not unusual, for the soft steps of Severus approached her without further discussion, and she heard the soft sound of an unsheathed wand. A moment later, he spoke the words that sent her world erupting into blistering agony.

It continued for a long, long while, the unrelenting suffering, but even as she screamed, the part of her mind which remained coherent realized that this was not even close to being as intense as the pain that Lucius Malfoy could cause. And, as Severus was just as powerful a wizard, possibly more so, she had to conclude that he was holding back for her sake. Silently, she rebuked him. Holding back was dangerous, very dangerous indeed.

Unfortunately, having become accustomed to the gut-wrenching pain, it was a long while before oblivion claimed her. Even then, she was not allowed to rest, but was immediately revived.

When she opened her eyes, she was staring at Snape's kneeson the stone floor in front of her face. Lifting her gaze, she watched in horror as Lucius, his hand tangled in long, black hair, forced his head back, exposing his throat, drawing his gaze to him. Snape's hands were empty, meaning that Lucius had disarmed him... not a good sign.

"What was that pathetic display supposed to prove?" Lucius growled in his face. "Do you think me a fool? Do you think that I can't see the truth? Weak! Pathetic! Useless, the both of you!"

He released him, then, allowing him to rise to his feet and shake his robes and hair into place.

"Damn you, Severus! You've rendered the girl's greatest weapon utterly worthless! She feels she's far too noble to use her body to our advantage, preferring to save herself for a man who will **never** love her. That ends tonight.

"You are going to take her, Severus, and you will continue taking her, until she no longer reeks of innocence and virtue. And, if you are not man enough to fuck the girl," he added, being intentionally nasty, "then I will."

* * *

Emily gazed at the silent group whose attention was riveted solely on her and smiled. "I never would have believed it, not if Sev himself had confessed it to me. But, I was there to bear witness when Severus, the most dignified man I know, twisted his mouth into a snarl and spat directly into Malfoy's face. I needn't tell you, I was in absolute shock! So was Malfoy. That, at least, gave me a moment to applaud Sev's response."

"And, what was that?" Hermione asked, her eyes wide with fascination.

Emily winked at the girl, knowing a childhoodcrush when she saw it. "He told Lucius that he had no idea what it meant to be a man, and likely never would. I had just one moment to revel in the sweetness of it all beforehe retaliated."

"What did he do?" Ron asked, his face wide open in awe.

"He petrified us, set us ablaze, and sat back to listen to us scream as we burned to death," came the cold response from the doorway.

Before anyone could even register their shock, Emily was around the table with her arms thrown about Snape's neck. And even as he simply allowed the embrace, not returning it, she gushed into his shoulder. "I was so worried! Where _were_ you?!"

"I shall inform you of that when we return home," he returned tightly, gentlypushing her away, but retaining a tight grip on her arm. "Headmaster," he greeted shortly, ignoring the rest of the room.

"Wait a moment! How did you escape?" Harry called out as Severus fairly dragged her through the door.

"I'll tell you later!" she returned before the door swung closed.

Two minutes later, they arrived in the sitting room where Severus promptly collapsed into a chair and dismissed her to her rooms. It was the first time she'd been given a chance to really study him, and was disconcerted to see that he was paler even than usual, his mouth set in a grim line and his eyes haunted, nearly hidden in the shadow of a deep scowl.

Slowly, she knelt in front of him and brought his rigid, shaking hand to her cheek.

"Severus, what's happened?"

He sighed heavily, still glaring into the distance. "Not now. I told you to go."

"And I'm not leaving," she snapped lightly. "What do you know about that? I must be Emily," she added sarcastically.

He closed his eyeswearily,and the skin around his jaw twitched as he ground his teeth.

"Not even a smirk?" she said lightly. "We _are_ surly tonight." Emily smiled wickedly as her free hand wandered languidly up his thigh. "I'll bet I have something that can remedy that."

He was on his feet in an instant, nearly knocking her aside in his haste to get away.

She followed, but very cautiously. This was more than just a foul mood. Something was very wrong. Severus' control never reached such a tenuous point. That was why people feared him so.

_Though I think I fear him a great deal more in this state_, she thought nervously.

It was impossible to fail to notice that he was breathing rapidly and trying to hide the fact, sucking in shallow little gasps of air.

"We will discuss this in the morning," he said tightly, black eyes glittering dangerously in the firelight. "I am in no fit state for a civilized conversation. Now, go."

She took a tiny, tentative step forward, trying to refrain from startling him. The warning in his eyes gave way to something that, in any other man, would've been fear. But, there wasn't much that Severus feared; he certainly did not fear her.

"No," she replied quietly, bringing a hand to his face to brush away a stray hair. "I will not leave you alone, not like this. If you don't care to talk, then don't, but I'm staying."

With a sweet smile, she brought her lips to his in a tender kiss, meant only to calm him, but the change it wrought in him was terrifying as, suddenly, something seemed to release within Severus. In an instant, her gentle gesture of affection became a furious joining of his mouth with hers as he pushed his tongue between her lips, tangled powerful hands in her hair and yanked her head back, baring her throat. She whimpered when he brought his teeth to the delicate column, but he didn't tear at it as she almost feared he would. Still, the combination of sharp bites and kisses left her body quivering as she gasped for breath.

She was afraid, more afraid than she'd ever been of him when he spun them around, crushed her back against the wall and lifted her skirt. In a few quick, violent motions, his straining erection was freed and she was bare beneath the rich fabric of her robes. She hadn't a moment to even gasp before, in a ferocious shove of hips and hands, she was lifted, pinned to the stone, and impaled.

It was as breathtaking as it was horrifying: the pain, the sweet sting of his body joined so fiercely with her own and he gave her not a moment to acclimate before he began to drive into her, scraping her back against the stone in a brutal rhythm.Cries of protest were muffled as his mouth came to hers in a savage gesture hardly akin to a kiss. Mercilessly, his body continued its assault on hers, ridding itself, without his conscious consent it would seem, of some terrible inner demon that had somehow consumed him and hands, as tight and sharp as claws, tore at her thighs.

Far sooner than she would've expected, he shuddered, then froze, his head thrown back in a choked cry as he poured his rage into her body.

There was a long silence as he tried in vain to catch his breath and calm himself, but it availed him little. As if in surrender, his head fell, raining black silk onto her shoulder, and with a tiny sob he began to whisper her name - tenderly, so tenderly that, even after such violence, she stroked his hair and feathered kisses on his head.

"It's alright," she soothed. "It's alright, love."

It was all she could think to say, bewildered as she was by his actions.

"No," he moaned into her hair. "It isn't."

After a time, he lifted her gently, swept her into his arms, and carried her to his chambers where he sank into bed beside her andcradled her aching bodylike an infant.

For a long while he watched her in silence, running tender fingers through her hair, an unuttered plea for forgiveness in his eyes. She didn't bother to tell him that remorse was unnecessary, that once she'd recovered from the initial shock and fear, she'd quite enjoyed the breathless, furious abandon with which he'd taken her. He was too deeply buried in his own guilt, though, to even hear her, so she merely smiled. Reverently, she whispered her desperate love for him as his head sank to her shoulder and, at long last, he surrendered to exhaustion and drifted off into the forgiving oblivion of sleep.

Emily didn't question him when he woke the next morning, merely waited patiently as he yawned and stretched and stared in brooding, contemplative silence at the canopy high above. At long last, he turned and fixed her with a solemn gaze.

"I hurt you," he began quietly.

"No," she countered softly. "No. You didn't. You shared your pain with me. That's what I wanted." She smiled into his disbelieving scowl. "But, I do hope at some point you'll tell me where you were and what wounded you so deeply."

His gaze wandered for a long while, assimilating her words. Then, finally, "I was with Isabelle."

_That_ struck a chord.

Emily's heart constricted painfully in her chest, then relaxed. Severus was a terribly dark soul, but an honorable one, nonetheless - even ifthathonorwas unintentional and unwelcome. _Be patient_, she counseled herself. _Listen_.

He watched her carefully, gauging her reaction, perhaps testing her foresworn trust. When he finally spoke again, he did so haltingly.

"She and I had... a rapport, of sorts, on the most basic of levels and I... felt that I should explain to her why I would not be returning."

"Thank you."

"Not yet, Emily," he continued sadly, silencing her at once. "Someone had been there before me - an hour before, perhaps less."

"Oh, Sev," Emily breathed, knowing what was coming.

"She wasn't dead yet," he continued, his voice carefully toneless, "merely suffering. She bore no visible wounds, so I tested her for various magical injuries and discovered that she'd been poisoned... fatally."

Emily shook her head, unable to accept it. "How did you know that?"

"Because I know the poison," he returned bitterly.

"It was yours," she finished for him.

He nodded wearily. "Slow-acting. Progressively painful. Inexorably lethal - only certain high-ranking Death Eaters and I have access to it."

"So, you stayed with her."

He nodded. "She had some personal matters she wished to sort out with her... remaining time. And, of course, she didn't wish to be alone." He rubbed his temples with a small groan. "I did what I could, which wasn't much. And, when it became too much for her to bear..."

He stopped. Sighed. Fell silent.

"You ended it," Emily whispered.

His eyes shut tightly against the sound of it, and for a time, Emily was as still as he.

The room lightened with the growing dawn and soon she sat up to feather kisses across his brow.

"You're a good man, Severus."

"Then, why do I feel likea fiend?"

She placed a soft, warm kiss on his mouth. "Because you're a good man," she whispered.

He didn't smile. She didn't expect it. But, his face did lose a bit of the tension between his brows. Slowly, he brought a hand to her face and stroked her cheek with his thumb.

"A careless man could easily find himself hopelessly in love with you, Emily Grey."

She smiled down at him. "Then it's a pity you're not a careless man."

"Am I not?" he questioned softly, drawing her mouth to his for a tender kiss that kept them in bed until the sun had climbed high into the sky.

* * *

Quietude: I miss you! It's awfully quiet around here.

Oya: It's okay. Sev's back - whole and healthy. No worries.

Elessar Evenstar: Wow, thanks! I appreciate your enthusiasm. It's words like those that keep me writing. Harry and his gang, with the noted exception of Hermione (occasionally), are not my idea of great people. I am less than fond of them and I'm afraid that does rather bleed through in my writing. Glad that doesn't offend you. Frankly, I can't believe I've forgiven Lupin forhis lack of balls where his friends were concerned enough to write of him in such a favorable way... but I have.

Sev lover: A good theory. He just might have been jealous. Sev is back. Don't get upset.

Sesshomaru's Angel: Remus Lupin is pretty fine. I agree. He doesn't hold a candle, in my humble opinion, to Severus or Lucius... but then I've always gone for bad guys... when I go for guys at all. As you and I share a love for werewolves, please note that I made even the feral ones quite a bit more honorable than your basic bad guy. That was kinda fun for me.

Silverthreads: The chapter did move fairly quickly. That's true. I think this one raced by as well, but I should post the next one right after Thanksgiving. Glad you're enjoying it.

born2act05: Thanks. Did you mean for there to be a link in your review because nothing showed up? I'm always interested in new sites, so if you don't mind, could you please try it again?

Darklit Snapefan: Whoa! Two in the morning? Get some sleep! Still, I'm flattered I made you splutter. Yay me! I update fairly often, so don't be a stranger.

Intel Ewok: You like Emily even more? Quick, tell me why. I have to know! It's okay about the werewolves. As you've undoubtedly discovered now, it was just a flashback within Emily's storytelling. I wanted to do it this way because she would have, no doubt, censored a few aspects (children in the room and all) but I wanted the readers to get the whole story. Cheers!

Lady Jenilyn: Thank you forcaring. I am indeed over that dreadful flu and now have only a minor cough and a sultry, sexy voice left over. Unfortunately, the latter will, no doubt, fade and my usual, sticky-sweet voice will be returned to me. That's exactly how I wanted to portray the twins, and doing their customary back and forth dialog was just irresistible. I've often had issues with the Weasley family in general, but one of my pet peeves has always been the way Molly seems to idolize Harry even over her own children. But, the thing that really pisses me off is the way she treats Fred and George. It's a wonder either of them have any self-esteem at all the way she's constantly belittling them. In other news, I am eagerly awaiting your e-mail and the Springeresque stories. It's always nice (how selfish is this) to hear that other families are just as screwed up as mine... sometimes even more so. I am working until midnight tomorrow, so I will be literally **on** the pallet of POA when it hits the floor, just as I rode the OOTP book pallet to the stationary department. Yeah, baby, YEAH!!! WHOO!!! Severus is coming home with mama... again.


	30. Chapter Thirty: Dinner at Caravelle

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Chapter Thirty: Dinner at Caravelle

Severus ran a hand through his hair one last time, silently ordering it to, just once, behave like the hair of a pure-blood wizard and lie still. For the moment, it seemed to comply, and he lowered his hands to give his waistcoat a sharp tug, then turned on his heel to leave.

Emily was directly behind him, bringing him up short.

"You are a wickedly handsome man," she purred, slipping her arms around his neck.

He didn't answer right away, was far too occupied with studying her as she tilted her head back to give him a brilliant smile. Sweet Merlin, but she was beautiful in tightly fitted bottle-green robes, her hair twisted into an elegant knot and adorned with ribbons of the finest silk. Like an elemental from the deepest forests, but far more erratic and feral and frighteningly difficult to control.

He gave her the merest hint of a smile. "And you," he growled, wrapping his arms around her waist, "temp me to cancel our plans and remain at home."

"Oh, no you don't, Professor," she said laughingly, pushing back out of his embrace. "You promised a good Italian dinner, and _you_ _are going_ to deliver."

He gave her a mocking hint of a bow. "As you wish, my lady. I am ever your servant."

She responded with a lascivious grin. "Now, _that_ is a concept that might keep me home."

"Oh, heavens, no," he answered in mock defense. "I wouldn't dream of depriving you of your dinner."

She snuggled in closer with her arms once again around his neck. "Please, deprive me," she begged.

"Never," he argued selflessly, stepping away and offering his arm. "It simply wouldn't be proper. Besides, we have reservations."

"I'm beginning to have reservations, myself," she warned playfully, taking his arm.

Without another word, he escorted her out of the room and up through the dungeons.

Ten minutes later, he was removing her cloak in thelobby of the loveliest restaurant he'd ever seen. The reservations had been made sight unseen, on the advice of Dumbledore who had dined in almost every restaurant on the planet at least once. Caravelle, in Rome, he had recommended so highly that Severus found it impossible to doubt him. Albus had even been kind enough to allow the use of his private dining booth.

"Benvenuto a Caravelle," greeted a bustling gentleman in pristine black and white robes. "Come posso aiutarlo?"

Severus inclined his head gracefully. "Prenotazioni per Snape, per favore," he answered smoothly, not bothering to glance at Emily who was gaping openly. "Un partito di due."

"Questo senso, per favore, signore."

"That had to have been the sexiest thing I've ever heard come out of your mouth," Emily blurted out the instant the host had left the table with their orders. "And, I don't even know what it was."

"I suppose I could arrange to familiarize you with my limited knowledge of the Italian language when we return home," he said casually, sipping delicately at his wine.

With an indelicate laugh, she was off on a verbal binge. He allowed her to thoroughly exhaust her seemingly endless repertoire of casual conversation topics and actually mention her dinner with the Weasleys before finally bringing up the subject that had been nagging at him for two nights.

"May I ask, Miss Grey, what drove you to relate that particular story to a roomful of perfect strangers?"

It took her a moment to realize what he referred to, but when she did, her blank gaze ignited with understanding. "Oh, that!"

"Yes," he responded quietly. "That."

"I was making them understand that, contrary to your students' belief, you do not have any regard for the Malfoys."

"Not that I approve of your telling them anything about me," he began, a subtle hint of rebuke in his voice, "but you could have simply told them as much."

She snorted into her glass causing the wine to bubble merrily. "Oh, of course. Why didn't I think of that? That would've gone over beautifully," she chuckled. "Lackluster, uninspiring, forthright _fact_ - nothing changes a resolute mind quite like that."

"I'll thank you to refrain from the sarcasm, and from ever speaking of my past to anyone... _especially my students_," he said firmly, reaching to refill her glass.

"But they completely misunderstand you!" she argued heatedly.

He didn't bother to speak, allowing his eyes to answer for him. He didn't really give a damn what his students thought of him. His reputation at Hogwarts was a mixture of carefully calculated pretense and his steadily-increasing hatred of the job itself. Whether he was loved or despised was wholly inconsequential.

Emily took a long pull of the newly-refilled wine. "Besides, I was worried half to death about you. I wasn't really... thinking... clearly." She hesitated. Furrowed her brow. Sat back with a light shake of her head.

Severus' chair moved beside hers with the merest of thoughts, and his hand covered hers lightly. "Emily?"

She shook her head. "I can't remember," she whispered absently.

"Remember what?"

"How I came to be so giddy at dinner," she answered, suddenly looking quite worried. "I wasn't drunk, but that's rather how it felt. I remember trying to understand what had happened. I had been worried about you, very worried, nearly frantic, and then... nothing."

"What do you mean, nothing?" he asked tensely, trying to brush back the anger that was threatening to overtake him.

"I was going mad wondering where you were," she said dreamily, "then..." She shrugged helplessly. "Then, Remus and I were talking and laughing on our way to dinner."

"Lupin," Snape said tightly. Emily looked up in confusion, and he rolled his eyes. How could she possibly be confused? "Emily, you are one of the most aggressive people I know. Hence, we may conclude that if you were maniacally concerned, you would have decided to search for me. Remus would not have allowed you to leave the safety of the Order's headquarters. Ergo..."

Her head fell into her hands with a groan. "Ergo, we may conclude that he altered my perception of the situation to keep me with him," she chanted dully.

Severus nodded. "And likely layered that with a powerful cheering or inebriating charm."

"That bastard! How could he?!" she fumed. "When I see him again, I swear I'll..."

"You'll do nothing," Severus stated flatly. "As much as it pains me to defend him, I would have done the same thing in his place."

"He toyed with my mind!" she said heatedly.

"And if he hadn't, what would have occurred?" Snape said reasonably. "You would have endeavored to leave, despite his protests. Had he attempted to stop you, you would have then drawn your wand." She pinched the bridge of her nose and nodded, acknowledging the inevitability of the scenario. "It would've come to a duel, Emily, and even if he hadn't harmed you - which, I hasten to assure you he is more than capable of doing, and likely under strict orders to do so at the slightest provocation - Dumbledore would've had you locked away again in the blink of an eye." Her head was lowered now, as if in shame. "If you mention it at all, you should thank him for protecting you from yourself," he concluded.

She sighed deeply, now raising her gaze to his. "You're right. He did the right thing," she acknowledged quietly. "But, I hate knowing it ever came to that."

"I'm certain that he does, as well," Severus answered with a small smile. "Now, finish your meal."

"Yes, mummy."

In a few moments of comfortable silence, she finished her second glass of wine and he, again, reached to refill it. She watched him quite carefully as he did so, finally asking, "Are you trying to inebriate me, Professor?"

"Merely seeing to your needs," he responded effortlessly.

She shook her head with a smile, taking up his hand as soon as it released the bottle. "Am I the only person in the world who knows what a charming - " she kissed a fingertip - "graceful - " and another - "beautiful man you are?" she asked, completing the question with a lingering kiss on his palm.

He couldn't stop a crooked smile from spreading across his face. "Apparently so," he answered wryly. "And if you ever enlighten a soul, I shall be forced to punish you."

"Ooh, Professor," she purred. "You temp me to tell the world."

"It would be a wretched day for you, Miss Grey," he promised.

"Would it really be so awful to let the world in on the truth of who you are?"

"The world sees the truth of who I am," he answered soberly. "I despise the vast majority of individuals I encounter, Emily. You know that," he insisted sedately. "The self-serving, mindless, uncultured masses who would merely hope to gain something by my acquaintance. It is barely within my power to even tolerate them."

"You seem to tolerate me fairly well," she said with a charming smile.

"You, my lady, are an exception to nearly every rule."

She laughed merrily, the wine finally beginning to take effect and he allowed himself a secret, satisfied smile at her mild intoxication. If anyone deserved to become drunk, it was her. She'd put up with an endless deluge of melancholy on his part for two days, not to mention his fit of temper that had resolved itself into violent lust when he'd first brought her home. She'd sworn that it had pleased her, but he knew better, had seen the terror in her eyes when she'd realized his intention, heard the pain in her cry when he'd forced himself inside her. And, it had actually driven him over the edge, her agony had done nothing but encourage his ferocity. He'd wanted to hurt someone that night, preferably the bastard who'd poisoned Isabelle, but Emily, in her unrelenting desire to help him, had become the focal point of his rage, and he had yet to forgive himself. He likely never would. But what was the harm, really? It was just another iniquity in a long line of black deeds.

He shook his head, trying to rid himself of the ever-present darkness. Any woman with a modicum of sense would've been gone that very night, but Emily had never had much of that and he had yet to decide whether that was a relief to him or a burden.

The waiter reentered, then, followed obediently by a floating tray of frighteningly decadent confections.

"Perhaps the lady and gentleman would care for something sweet?" he said in heavily-accented English.

She leaned her head on his shoulder. "I already have something sweet."

Severus fought to refrain from rolling his eyes. "Is there anything on that cart with lemon in it?" he asked.

"Indeed, sir," he answered with a bright smile. "Perhaps this lemon cheesecake would please you."

"I believe she would quite enjoy it."

"Oh, very much!" Emily gushed, never one to turn down dessert.

The enormous slice of cake was served as Severus refilled her glass.

"Perhaps the lady would prefer coffee or tea?" the portly gentleman suggested lightly.

"Oh, no," she said before Severus could answer. "You see, my lover is attempting to inebriate me so that he can take advantage of me later, and I fully intend to let him."

Severus scrubbed his rapidly-warming face with his hands. "Emily Brigid Grey!" he moaned. "I cannot take you anywhere. Please excuse her, signore," he added to the waiter. "She _has_ had a bit much."

"Oh, no apology necessary," he answered with a smile that encompassed his whole face. "There is no shame in love, and with such a charming lady who can blame a gentleman, eh?" He was still chuckling when he and the cart bustled away.

"That was inelegant, Emily, even for you," he snapped.

His ire fazed her little as she slowly slid the fork from her mouth with a moan that aroused him against his will, savoring the taste of the food. "Sweet Merlin," she whispered with a sigh. "Moments like these, I realize just how much I missed in prison. How good life can be."

He started at her sudden mention of Azkaban. He'd attempted to discuss her stay in that horrid place many times, but she had seemed violently opposed to discussing it at all. Never one to pass up an opportunity, he leaned in as she continued to slowly relish her dessert. "What, specifically, is good about it?"

She giggled, her hand pressed against her lips as she attempted to swallow the rather large mouthful of cake she'd taken, so charming a sight that he couldn't suppress a slight chuckle himself.

"Well, my companion is certainly more delightful than your typical Dementor or Ministry analyst." She gave a tiny shudder. "And, it's warm, and there's food - Gods, I _love_ food, and I don't spend every moment of every day wishing for death," she looked away, embarrassed, "or attempting to facilitate it."

"It is a great relief to me that you never succeeded."

She nodded slowly, suddenly much more sober than before. "And to me. But, in all honesty, for the chance to be with you, I'd live it again."

"You don't mean that," he responded offhandedly.

She placed a hand on his arm and gave him a look more stern than he'd ever seen in her eyes. "I assure you, I do. In fact..." She stopped, drew a deep breath and shook her head. "Gods, this wine. It's got my head all muddled." He waited patiently, not wanting to interrupt for fear that she would never return to this curious subject. "I didn't think much in Azkaban. I wasn't even in my right mind most of the time. I wandered in and out of my worst nightmares for years, but memories of you - the good ones - were always there to keep me from slipping too far over the edge. I never imagined, even during those years in the Dark Lord's service, that I would have a second chance, that I would ever be with you again. And, I don't deserve to be."

He opened his mouth to protest, but she cut him off before he could speak. "I _do not_ deserve it," she repeated vehemently. "I'm a murderer, several times over. And, I didn't do it out of necessity, as you did. I did it because I wanted to. Because I enjoyed the rush and heat of killing. Because for me there was nothing left, nothing but the anger I felt for everyone I'd once loved: my father, my brother, you - most especially you. You took away the one thing that made me a whole person."

She was crying now, and he drew a linen handkerchief from an inner pocket for her.

"Thanks," she muttered into the cloth. After a few moments, she brought it away and tucked it into her own robes, thoroughly preoccupied with mastering herself once more. After a long breath, she returned her slightly reddened eyes to his. "I'm sorry. I didn't intend to launch into a weepy oratory on my past."

"It's quite..."

She waved a hand at him, more of a pleading gesture than a dismissive one. "Please. Not yet. Just... listen. There's something I need to ask you and, if I don't do it now..." She reached once more into her robes, drew out a tiny velvet box, and slid it open.

His eyes flew wide at the ring within, immediately recognizable. It had been her father's, a family heirloom worn by every patriarch of the Grey family for generations incalculable; remarkably ornate silver embedded with a single emerald where once there had been a ruby and cradled by two immaculately-cut moonstones.

"Emily," he breathed, utterly taken aback.

"Don't," she said sternly, taking his hand in her own. "Don't say no, not right away. Please, if you ever loved me, just... let me get through this." Unable to even formulate an argument, he merely watched in stunned silence as she slid the ring over his finger with trembling hands, then brought it to her lips.

"I love you, Severus," she whispered unsteadily. "I have loved you for as long as I can recall, and that will never change. I know that things are complicated, right now... to say the least. But, the war doesn't change the fact that we belong together. All it does is make me realize what I have in you, and what I have to lose. I'm not asking you for an answer, not yet. I'm only asking you to seriously consider what I know you feel." She threaded her hand through his.

"Emily," he began again, cursing himself for a sudden, inexplicable loss of articulation.

"Severus Snape," she said, shaking her head at the interruption. "Will..." She stopped. Took a deep breath and tried again. "Will you marry me?"

* * *

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**Captain Oblivious!**:

So glad that you have your computer back, and I hope I've sufficiently cleared up the mystery of what Remus did to Emily and why. Not too sinister. Nothing to worry about. I'm a big fan of the twin as well. Knew you'd concur if no one else did. I agree with the 'poor Isabelle' sentiment. I hate having to kill off someone that I like so much. It was almost as painful as killing Nina in the second Alex story. And, yes, one must never forget how dangerous the war can be. Now, now. I know that Lucius is unethical and cold-blooded, but those are good qualities... goooooodddd qualitiiieeessss.... You love Lucius. Lucius is your hero... just like me.... Good Captain O. Good....

**Sesshomaru's Angel:**

You're dad is way off the mark. The bad guys ARE the good guys! I mean life would be so dull without them! Severus is back to stay. No more long trips, I promise. This one only lasted a day, but it felt like a lifetime!

**Queen of the Faeries**:

As glad as I am that you enjoyed the last chapter for its lack of fluff, I cringe now because this one is almost nothing but fluff! Hope you don't puke from the sticky sweetness. I tried to clean the sap off as much as possible, but the events of this chapter were absolutely crucial to me for the rest of the plot and the character development. You understand, don't you? Sure you do. Interesting that you should mention the end as I just finished the rough draft of the ending chapter. We're not very far at all... not extremely close, but not far enough away for my happiness. I hate endings, especially writing them. Beginnings are so much easier for me, so crisp and clean and full of possibility. Sigh. Look what you've done. Now, I'm depressed and will have to go play Siberia until dawn.

**iSpeekyGreeky**:

Hi! Thanks for your reviews of chapters 20, 21, and 23. I wasn't sure if you'd gotten this far yet, but in case you had, I wanted to make sure that you know I appreciate your reviews and am very glad that you're enjoying the story. By the way, your description of Lucius was right in line with my reasons for loving him so much. That's kinda groovy.

**1 lonelyangel**:

I'm hoping that I can cover how they escaped, now that you mention it. I was going to write it out, but it just didn't feel right, having a lengthy conversation after Severus showed up. I suppose it really isn't fair, my knowing how they lived through it and not sharing the rest of the story with my beloved readers. Tell you what, if I can't manage to fit it in, I'll tell you in an author's note. 'Kay? So, you think you know who killed Isabelle, eh? Well? Let's have it. Inquiring minds, ya know.

**Sev lover**:

Ah, you and I and Lady Jenilyn appear to have some opinions in common. I like that. It makes me feel all warm and cozy. I have a few HP pals here at home, but they're all big Gryffindor fans. Sigh. It chills me to the bone. I didn't raise them to be this way, I swear. It's nice to know that people do exist who share my opinions on these important matters. And the fact that you're one of my beloved readers makes it all the sweeter. My local pals know that I write HP fanfic, but (with the exception of Sylvan) I refuse to tell them which stories are mine. So, really, you guys are closer than the guys with whom I actually do share my muffins and tea. How groovy is that?

**Intel Ewok**:

Hi! Good to hear from you! I caught your review just as I signed on to post this chapter. I'm glad that you liked Severus in that chapter. I felt as though he was much more in character there than he is here... but I'm going somewhere with this, I promise.


	31. Chapter ThirtyOne: A Cry For Help

Precious readers. I will not dishearten you with the details of the string of misfortune which has kept me away for so long. I will merely say that I was unavoidably (and I do mean _unavoidably_) detained within a whirlwind of some of the foulest luck I've ever experienced. The good news is, I'm back on my feet again and ready to present the rest of the story which you have so faithfully followed. I hope that I have not lost any of you because of my prolonged absence. I'm so very sorry that you were kept waiting. It is highly unlikely that anything like this will ever happen again. Now to get back to doing what I love to do. So ... without further ado, I present:

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Chapter Thirty-One: A Cry For Help

Severus' eyes, wider than she'd ever seen them, stared out from a deeply furrowed brow for a long, long time, so long that she wondered for an insane moment whether he'd even heard her proposal. He had, of course, and had slipped into one of his nearly catatonic meditations on the question.

Emily gave a nervous giggle, still more affected by the wine than she cared to be. "Sev?"

He started visibly at the sound of his name, then slowly closed the lids over his eyes once, twice, and a third time, before raising a hand to her face for a brief, almost embarrassed brush of cool fingers across her cheek.

"It isn't…" he began softly.

"No!" she interrupted, nearly panicked at the negative beginning. "No, don't do that," she added, more sedately, but unable to contain the pleading in her voice. "Can't you just ... wear the ring for a bit? Let me imagine that you're thinking about it?"

"Dwelling on one's imaginings is a dangerous custom," he said carefully.

She hesitated, not caring for the finality of the implication. "Is that what I'm doing?" she asked, voice cracking from a suddenly parched throat. She took another deep drink, no longer caring whether she became insufferably drunk. "Is there no chance at all?"

He sighed - a great, regretful release of breath. "Truly, Emily, I don't know."

"That's what's killing you, isn't it?" she questioned, feeling her temper rising like a flame. "The uncertainty is driving you mad."

"Ridiculous!" he hissed. "My entire life is spilling over with uncertainty."

"And, I'm just another question mark," she shot back, her voice beginning to rise with her anger. "Somewhere in the back of that brilliant mind, even now, you're calculating the risk, assessing whether life with me is worth the trouble. Well, perhaps I've thought the same about you," she added furiously. "You… maniacally-controlling, possessive, egotistical, son of a…"

Faster than she could react, his mouth was on hers, stopping the tirade with a blistering kiss. There was no time to think, no time to consider as he cleared the table with a violent sweep of his arm, knocking the remainder of their meal to the floor with a reverberating crash that thankfully did not pass the boundaries of the soundproof room. An instant later the door was sealed and she was trapped with a suddenly-frightening potions master.

"I'm controlling?" he hissed.

She studied him carefully for a moment, noting with alarm that his eyes held that same mad gleam she'd seen the night he'd dealt with Isabelle, then he descended on her with an almost desperate fury.

"You need to be controlled by me," he whispered feverishly into her ear. "Tell me that you do not ache for me to rule you."

Much to her surprise, she found that she could not.

The next few minutes were a frenzied mix of passion and wrath as he covered her in angry kisses, tearing her robes apart and throwing the tattered scraps to the floor. That brought a sharp and profane protest as she managed to pull away. Almost reflexively, he silenced her, then yanked her head back with a sadistic tug of her hair and assailed her throat with lips and teeth in an assault which at once startled and greatly aroused her.

After a few moments of this treatment, she learned that responding in kind as she stripped away his robes drove him even further into this sweltering madness, drawing sounds from him that she never would've imagined he could make - frustrated moans and growls so inhuman that she, at times, feared for her safety only to find that the fear drove her to a place where she no longer cared if he hurt her, even welcomed the pain, as long as he never stopped.

Sensing her surrender seemed to drive him even closer to the edge of reason and the inevitable pain came at last, as sharp nails dug furrows across her back and teeth pulled cruelly at her breast. At last, the silencing spell fell away and the room filled with the sound of her cries mingled with his mindless groans as he sank to his knees, roughly parted her legs, and claimed her with his tongue.

It was absolute perfection, the slick slide of his mouth on her sex, the tiny vibrations as he savored the taste of her and soon she found herself at the end of her control, burying her hands in his silky hair as she begged him shamelessly for release.

True to his nature, he refused her, pulling away before she reached completion and rising smoothly before her like a charmed serpent, glistening lips curled with a menacing smile that froze her blood. For a moment he merely studied her with predatory eyes that promised as much pain as they did pleasure before yanking her to her feet, spinning her about, and shoving her body gracelessly down - her cheek flat against the cold wood, arms pinioned by the wrist behind her, and long legs kicked apart.

He wasted no time in claiming her, filling her with one long, languid thrust, then stopping altogether and smoothing his hands lovingly over torn skin, spreading the sting like a sweet flame across her shoulder blades and lower, deeper - a moment of tenderness which confused her even further when it was followed by a coupling that made their encounter against the wall of his study seem gentle by comparison. And when they reached their completion, it was as one, their voices filling the lush dining room with an unearthly keening that would ring in her ears for the rest of her days.

Later that night, she lay nestled in the safety of his arms, awash in a warmth she'd never known and inexplicably comforted by the control he exerted over her - the very control she'd cursed only a few hours before. Staring into the darkness, she laughed silently at her own shortsightedness. Gods, it was the lament of the old, but: had she only known then what she knew now.

"What's funny?" he whispered, his voice thick with weariness.

"I am," she chuckled, just as quietly.

"How so?" he asked, brushing back a lock of silken darkness from his eyes.

"Doesn't matter," she hedged, propping herself on one arm, watching in fascination the ropy muscles under his skin that moved with him as he adjusted his position as well. He didn't prompt her again, merely waited with a raised eyebrow for her to continue. "You know what a fool I am. You're constantly reminding me of it. I hardly think I need to give you any more reason to feel that way."

He responded with the merest of chuckles which brought a nervous smile to her lips. A clever hand toyed with her splayed fingers as he searched her eyes carefully.

"There's something else," he asserted with his usual composed conviction.

She hesitated, dreading to ask because she was not as certain as she wanted to be of the answer. But, the promise of hearing the words from his own mouth was too tempting to pass up.

"Do you love me?" she breathed at last.

For an instant his eyes widened, the only indication that the question caught him off guard. His face remained as composed as usual as his fingers stopped tracing hers, falling flat atop her hand and remaining there a long while as he contemplated his response.

Finally he sighed with just a touch of frustration. "Love is a nebulous, nearly indefinable emotion, Emily. I..."

"Severus," she interrupted sternly. "No speeches. Just answer the question... Please?"

A brief moment he considered her, a moment that seemed to stretch into infinity but when he opened his mouth to speak at last, a sharp rapping at the window high above shut it again, and his attention was turned away to refocus on the glittering red and gold creature fluttering at the glass.

"Is that Fawkes?" Emily asked incredulously.

Severus didn't answer, just snatched his wand from the side table and irritably waved the window open to allow the phoenix entrance. Coming to an abrupt landing on the bed itself, the bird allowed Severus to remove the scroll from its leg, then just as suddenly sped away again.

Emily glanced at the scroll, then the clock. It was just past eleven. "Well, this can't be good," she mumbled as Severus hastily unrolled he scroll. Trying to read over his shoulder proved ineffective as the rich parchment was completely blank, enchanted no doubt to reveal itself only to the eyes for which it was intended.

"What is it?" she asked when the letter was tossed carelessly to the bed. He was on his feet and slipping into a dressing gown before he answered.

"A summons from Dumbledore. Emergency meeting. Midnight," he said tightly. "Get up."

A small whine escaped her as she fell back on the bed. "Why do I have to go?"

A blur of movement and a black wand was between her eyes, the man holding it wearing his most sarcastic smirk. "Because you are my prisoner, and a truly dangerous creature."

She laughed up at her lover, pushing the wand away from her face. "You're going to see how true that is in a moment, Severus Snape."

"Is that a threat, my lady?"

"Do you want it to be?"

For a moment, he considered her, then sneered. "You haven't what it takes to be a threat to me."

"Well," she returned soberly, slipping out of bed and into his arms, "we've discovered that. And, you owe me an answer before we go."

Gently, he pried her arms from around his neck and strode off in the direction of the lavatory. "It is foolish to ask questions to which you already know the answer, Emily Grey," he called over his shoulder.

"Where are you going?" she called after.

"I am in desperate need of a shower," his disembodied voice answered from beyond the door. A moment later his face, wearing an impatient glare appeared again. "As are you," he led sternly.

In seconds, she was at his side, wearing nothing but a broad grin.

* * *

Emily kicked the bedpost disconsolately, paced to the door, paused, then gave that a small kick as well. "Bloody Order," she muttered, retracing her steps a few more times.

How frustrating to be locked away yet again, taken away from Severus, out of his very bed as it were, to pace the floor of Sirius Black's old house, waiting for the Order to conclude their business - make their secret plans. She rolled her eyes at the thought. There was a chance, an infinitesimal chance, that they _might_ defeat the Dark Lord. More than likely, though, they were merely postponing the inevitable.

Irritably she tapped a drum roll on the bureau with restless fingers, stealing a glance at the clock. One thirty. Five minutes later than the last time she checked. How long could these people drone on?! She wanted to go home!

She was stopped cold by the thought, then shrugged the shock away. It should come as no surprise to her that she'd come to consider her home to be wherever Severus Snape hung his cloak. Any other place would feel far too empty. Whether they would ever make their home together, however, was anyone's guess.

The look in his eyes when she had delivered her clumsy, half-drunken proposal had truly frightened her because he himself had seemed frightened. There was not much that alarmed him more than being forced to express or return what he would consider to be mawkish sentimentality.

_Please don't let him turn me away again_, she pleaded with whatever power might aid her, vowing at once to do whatever she had to do to prove to him that she would be a good wife, that she would never do anything to compromise his love for her. _That's what I should have told him_, she thought disdainfully, cursing her inelegance. _The fact that I love him is old news, at this point he's likely to be tired of hearing it._

Mother of Merlin, _what_ could be said to sway him? What could be done? There was only one thing for it, really, she'd simply have to keep out of trouble - which meant becoming someone else entirely, maybe even join the Order. _There's a death sentence_, she thought angrily. Perhaps she could promise to use magic only when working on the runes until she was freed. Perhaps she could soften her temper and moderate her lust for their master's power and simply nod and smile when she disagreed with Dumbledore and his ridiculous Order members.

A long, ragged sigh was pushed from her lungs. _Right, and then perhaps Sev could start wearing powder blue and lavender robes_. _Any other ridiculous dreams_?

"Madam, please!" came a breathless call from above her head, causing her introspection to come to a skidding stop, "could I possibly request your assistance?"

Her attention was drawn immediately upward to see that the formerly empty portrait was now occupied by a portly elder wizard with flaming red hair who bore a striking resemblance to the Weasley twins. Rather bulbous green eyes were made even larger by the obvious panic with which the man was stricken.

"What's wrong?" she asked coolly, more amused than worried. After all, had it been an emergency surely the man would have gone to someone else.

"It's the little one, Ginny," he continued hysterically. "She flooed home in secret to collect some books and her school uniform and I followed - just to see the old burrow again, but the place is overrun with Death Eaters."

A rush of terror shot through her releasing a nasty oath reserved for especially foul occasions. "How long has she been there?"

"Only a few minutes, but now her brother's followed after her."

"Idiot! Why didn't he get help?"

"He didn't know, Miss. Flooed over while I was attempting to help the little one hide."

She cursed again, rubbed the Mark on her arm unconsciously. There was no breaking the wards on her door. Ministry officials - _bastards_ - had been present when Severus had locked her away, forcing him to make the seal unbreakable rather than cursory. _Damn it all_. Had it been only the boy she would've likely left him to his fate, potty little brat. But the little girl, well... that was different.

Really, there was only one option.

Pulling the wand from her sleeve, she quickly transfigured her robes into the now-unfamiliar garb of a Death Eater. A vase served as the bone-white mask.

"I can't go for help," she explained quickly, pulling the mask over her face and charming it into place. "I'm locked in.

"You're a prisoner?"

Before he could continue, she added. "But I can floo over."

"How did a prisoner get floo powder... or a wand for that matter," he asked in astonishment, "and how can you be trusted to..."

"Just shut it, a'right?" she snapped, pulling a small money pouch from her pocket. "I make a habit of always being prepared," she added a bit more civilly. "Is the way clear?"

"Through the kitchen, yes," he answered hesitantly. "Do hurry."

Opening the bag revealed the illusory contents, a few sickles and knuts. Only reaching in did one ascertain the few handfuls of floo powder that she kept for emergencies. Quickly, she scattered a small amount in the hearth causing a burst of glittering green flame, and glanced back up at the wide-eyed portrait.

"Right ... Well. Wish me luck!" she called cheerily, smiling past the sick feeling in her gut as she stepped into the fire.

* * *

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Darklit Snapefan: Grinning is good. Favorite story, even for a second, is wonderful! Thanks for the good word.

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Elessar Evenstar: I truly appreciate the pep-talk you gave Severus. He needs someone like you in his life, someone to say, "Here's the good stuff. Take it, take it, you crazy Potions Master!" Your compliments are so beautiful to me, especially reading them again after a dark period in my life. I must disagree with your assessment of my being a cruel author who doesn't care about my readers, though. I love you guys! Writing for you is the highlight of my life, no exaggeration. I just love to torture you. Color me twisted.

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1lonelyangel: Really? You didn't see it coming? Yay me! I surprised the little lonely angel. I will do my damnedest to find a convenient opening in the story to explain how Sev and Emily survived being burned alive by Lucius.

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sev lover: I truly hope that you didn't really die of curiosity in my long absence, andI'm glad you thought the chapter was "groovy." That's high praise in my book.

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Queen of the Faeries: Something bad happen to my beloved characters? Just as things were looking up? Oh, Heaven forefend! I would never do that! (Chuckle) To answer your question, I speak a smattering of Italian and am in the process of attempting to become fluent, but most of this dialog came from my reference books. I doubt it's perfect, but I hope it isn't too incorrect.

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Dianatyne: I'm so excited that you're excited. I hope that the anticipation hasn't waned too much in my absence. Thanks for the good word.

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Sesshomaru's Angel: Please don't die! I didn't mean to keep you waiting this long!

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Captain Oblivious!: If you read my next Alex installment, I promise you that, by the end of the story, you will be unable to dislike Lucius Malfoy. Hope to see you there. I'm glad that your English classes are over, Captain O. Good for you. I find your dislike of them rather amusing because I'm returning to school next Autumn to major in ... you guessed it ... English!

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bluebird161221: Thank you so much for your reviews! I really appreciate them! I swear that that's the first time I've taken more than a week to update, so please don't give up on me. Read the apology at the top of the page and remind yourself that I'm not really that kind of author. Hope to hear from you again.

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bxn 110: Thank you for the kind words. I promise that I update much more regularly than this, usually twice a week. Don't judge me by this lapse, please. Hope to hear from you again.

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Intel Ewok: So glad you loved it. That makes my day! Yeah. I know what you mean. I want him, too. Damn, he's perfect!

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Quietude: Thank you for having the kindness to tell me that you would be going. I don't know if you'll ever get around to reading this, but I've really enjoyed having you as reviewer and I hope to see you again. Sounds like your life is getting more interesting in a good way, so good on you, and good luck! I will truly miss you.


	32. Chapter ThirtyTwo: The Burrow

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Chapter Thirty-Two: The Burrow

The house was a catastrophe - bookshelves overturned, old tomes torn to bits, furniture smashed, drawers turned out onto the floor. From upstairs came the sound of further searching as, in typical form, the Death Eaters tore the house apart to gain any clues to their prey's whereabouts and acquire any items which might prove to be of use to their cause.

After the entire place had been gone over in this fashion, it would be razed to the ground, just to make a point. A quick glance at her surroundings and Emily curled her lip in disgust.

_Not much of a loss, really_.

Angrily, she shook the condescending thought aside. These people had been nothing but kind to her, and despite her innate dislike of their way of life, she really rather liked them. Except for Ron - nasty little brat. Still, _by the gods_, _this house_! One could barely call it that. Grimacing in revulsion, she moved on, trying to look less conspicuous than she felt.

The children had managed to escape detection so far; that was made obvious by the nonchalant attitude of the present occupants as they laughed and called out to one another about their findings or lack thereof. She made a mental note of the number of voices, most she didn't recognize, but a few were the kind one never forgot: Crabbe, Goyle - impossible to tell which was which - and was that Bellatrix Lestrange? If Lucius or any of the other higher-ranking Death Eaters were present, they were being unusually subdued.

_I might just live through this_, she thought wildly, trying to cheer herself with a bit of humor. It was impossible to do so, of course. What the hell she was doing there, risking her life for two kids she barely knew, was beyond her. It was doubtful that any of them would make it out, and even if they did, it was even more doubtful that they would then survive the war. Shaking her head at her own stupidity, she moved on.

Quickly, she made for the stairs, knowing that the likelihood of the little ones being hidden somewhere in the ruin of the first floor was almost nil. The second floor landing was blessedly clear of people, the body of the group moving steadily from room to room in both directions. Arbitrarily, hoping for some long-overdue luck, she turned to the left, now very thankful for the manner in which she habitually carried herself - straight and sure, head high, shoulders squared - body language which kept the others away from her and silenced questions before they were asked. As she progressed, they stepped aside and allowed her room to pass through the narrow passage, then continued on their way without a word. The rooms were in shambles, a turbulent ocean of scrolls and books and loose papers, everything turned inside-out and upside-down, occasionally even blown to bits. No one was hiding in there, that was certain.

_Damn_.

Two more rooms faced one another at the end of the hall, past a rickety stair spanning the second and third floors. It was to these that she hurried now, past a short, stocky, dumpy-looking creature who, even behind the mask, she knew to be Goyle. She let out a slightly nervous titter as she watched his eyes follow her stupidly. Severus had informed her at dinner one night that the younger Goyle was more like a twin than a son to his father, and she felt a stab of pity for the poor child. _When_ was something going to be done about that unfortunate bloodline?

Suddenly her thoughts were stilled by a panicked shout of "Expelliarmus!" - a very young voice, suddenly filling her with dread, as the entire house, for a long moment, seemed to hold its breath.

She didn't register moving, only found herself standing in the doorway of the next room watching in horror a scene which, in any other circumstance, would've been hysterical: Ron Weasley holding two wands, his own in one hand, his adversary's - a tall, bony Death Eater - in the other, looking somehow shocked, horrified, and elated all at once as his opponent took a moment to recover from the surprise as well.

The moment lasted far too long as Emily stared helplessly at the terrified young man. If she rescued him and somehow managed to escape, the little girl was dead... and that was not acceptable. She had come here for a single purpose: to get Ginny, the bright-eyed little one with the mischievous grin who reminded her so much of Eric, out of harm's way. She had not come with any intention of rescuing Harry Potter's hateful little crony. There was no possibility of choosing Ron over Ginny. The boy was doomed to endless torment as Voldemort used him as a weapon against his parents, of that there was no doubt. His only hope lay in one of the Death Eaters being stupid enough to...

"Avada Kedavra!"

She couldn't help but watch, couldn't stop the spread of grim satisfaction as the boy's body dropped unceremoniously to the floor and a deep voice from directly behind her began to violently berate the responsible wizard for not stunning the boy and taking him prisoner. Always quick to recover, the host had already converged on the small study where Ron Weasley had hidden, but Emily was moving on, slipping quickly and quietly down the hall, anticipating the order to search the house for any others. By the time that order came, she had gained the stairs and managed to be the first pair of eyes on the third floor and in the first room on the hallway.

Carefully she searched what had to have been the girl's bedroom for any sign that she'd been here recently as others moved past, laughing and calling to one another, eager for more sport. Shaking her head in disgust at the jeering voices, she turned to leave just as the shriek of a terrified young girl tore through the house, turning her blood to ice.

Tearing down the hall, taking grim satisfaction at shoving aside the stunned witches and wizards in the way, she reached the room just as Bellatrix Lestrange - for there was no mistaking the shrill laugh that bled from beneath the mask - raised her wand to strike. Emily didn't think, for a single thought would've taken too long, just snapped up her own wand and spoke the unforgivable words that sent the witch's bony frame crumpling like a rag doll against the back wall.

Immediately, she sealed the door in the face of the wizard who stood there gaping, then covered the seal with her nastiest ward. That would hold them - at least for a little while.

"Are you hurt?" she asked Ginny, who seemed to be attempting to back through the stone wall behind her. The girl merely gaped in terror as her feet edged her along the wall toward the door.

"Ginny, for Mab's sake!" she began violently, but the girl's tongue was suddenly loosed.

"She's not dead!" she shouted, pointing suddenly over Emily's shoulder.

Whirling about, she had barely a second to focus as Bellatrix, standing impossibly tall and straight, her wand pointed unwaveringly at Emily's heart, opened her mouth to speak. Emily was on top of her, bearing her to the ground, before the words could be loosed. A quick shift of her finger brought the hidden blade sliding from it's sheath within her wand and immediately she buried it to the hilt through the witch's eye and deep into her brain, a satisfying gush of warm blood washing over her hand.

"She is now," Emily panted, a little disturbed by the rush of pleasure she felt as she slid the blade free.

The door quaked violently then as a formidable spell collided with the ward, reverberating through the walls like the sound of a muggle cannon. Quickly, she reinforced the magic, then turned back to Ginny, hoping to Mab that the spell would hold until they found a way out. A chuckle escaped her as she caught sight of the little girl eyeing her with great trepidation even as her hand closed around a letter opener from the desk. She laughed outright, a nearly panicked outburst, when the makeshift dagger was brought to bear, brandished with all the bravado and grand stupidity of a cornered Gryffindor. A Slytherin child would've been bargaining by now, but not a Gryffindor. The concept rarely even occurred to them. Why in the hell didn't she have her wand with her, anyway?

"If I were planning to hurt you, Ginny, I wouldn't have saved your life," she scolded lightly, her tone belying her own fear as spell after vicious spell exploded over her already weakening ward.

"Miss Grey?" the girl breathed incredulously, her fair face brightening as if Dumbledore himself had come to her rescue.

"It's Emily, kitten," she answered absently, now stalking the room as she searched for a thin outer wall whose destruction wouldn't send the house crashing down about them. The discovery of a small, soot-encrusted hearth in the corner of the room brought a smile to her face. There might just be enough floo powder left in her pouch for both of them. There was certainly enough for the little girl.

"You know where Headquarters is?"

Ginny immediately understood. "There's no floo powder," she argued, obviously frustrated.

"I have the powder, kitten, but I don't know..." another boom shook the floor and she fell silent as they struggled to keep their feet. Knowing that anywhere was safer than here, Emily tossed in a small handful of floo powder and shoved the girl none too gently toward the green flames. For a moment, the little one looked back, uncertain.

"Go!" Emily shouted, her cry lost in the shake and shudder of the endless barrage.

"Number twelve, Grimmauld Place," Ginny choked out, crouching into the tiny hearth.

Emily breathed a sigh of relief at the sight of the vanishing girl - a sigh that ended as her lungs emptied in a rush of panic.

The door was blown to pieces in the next instant, showering her in its splintered remains.

* * *

"I'm quite convinced that Miss Grey is trustworthy, Headmaster," Severus stated soberly, eyeing the silent group with barely-disguised loathing. "However, I do believe that it is premature to even suggest that she join the Order, nor should she be employed to gather information. Her loyalties are... not as stable as one might wish."

"Yet her devotion to you is unmistakable," Lupin chimed in serenely.

Severus forced down a great sigh of exasperation, glancing for an instant at the finger on which he wore the concealed ring - an incredibly unexpected sign of her devotion. Would that things were not so bloody complicated! He would've accepted before she'd even finished the question. But, things being what they were - well, it didn't do to be impetuous about anything.

Presently, he had to worry about stopping this conversation before it got out of hand. After the hurried induction of three new members from the Wizengamot, the meeting had wound down and talk had somehow turned to the subject of better ways to profit from the presence of yet another slightly reformed Death Eater.

_Better way to use her is more like it_, he seethed inwardly.

"Her loyalty to me as a childhood friend has very little to do with anything," he returned coldly, staring the man down with a look that had the others squirming uncomfortably. Remus, however, met the gaze calmly with an equanimity which shifted out of place only in the rarest of circumstances.

_Damn the man!_

"It should be decided, then," Dumbledore began, turning Snape's attention away from the infuriatingly indefatigable gaze, "whether she should be permitted to answer when Voldemort summons her again... for he will do so. And, if we decide that she cannot be employed within his circle, then we must decide how we shall restrain her from rejoining her master."

Severus ground his teeth in fury. "You intend to set her free only to imprison her once more?" he questioned, making certain to keep his voice carefully neutral.

"She is still, despite her recent actions, a wholly unrepentant Death Eater, Severus," Dumbledore declared ruefully. "If, Merlin forbid, you were ever lost to us, she would return to the arms of her master in an instant, betraying every..."

The rest of Dumbledore's argument was lost as the hearth behind him suddenly roared to life with vivid green flames and a tiny figure shot through in a tremendous belch of smoke which wholly obscured the room as the trespasser slid across the floor, crashed into and upended several chairs in its path.

Immediately, there followed a rushing scrape of wood on stone as dozens of chairs were pushed back from the table, the entire Order gaining its feet, wands trained on the likely location of the small intruder. With a terse command, the smoke vanished and the room fell cold and silent for a long moment. Then the figure raised its tear-streaked face.

"Ginny!" Arthur Weasley shouted, diving for the girl and scooping her up into deceptively strong arms. "Ginny darling, are you hurt? What happened?"

Before she could answer, the hearth roared to life once more, bathing the room in emerald light as a second figure came hurtling through, rolling to a stop at the feet of Alastor Moody who immediately stepped back out of reach, his wand trained and deadly. The smoke was cleared again, more quickly this time and the room took a collective gasp at the sight of the Death Eater, rising like a grim specter before them.

A black wand clattered noisily to the floor, echoing in the silent room as bloodstained palms turned outward in an air of surrender. Green eyes behind the bone-white mask swept the room, suddenly noticing over a dozen wands and the furious looks behind them as Dumbledore stepped forward, livid and shaking with rage. The eyes rested only a moment on the fearsome elder wizard, then continued to search the room until they found what they sought.

A sigh of relief was released , then a shivering whimper. "Sev," the robed figure called piteously, slicing through the potions master's cold exterior in an instant.

_Emily! How the devil?_

Suddenly, she surged forward, her arms outstretched to embrace him, then toppled like a stone as a bellowed stunning spell tore her from her senses.

* * *

Gods, her head ached!

And, her back.

She rotated her eyes behind the lids and groaned.

Merlin, even her eyes hurt!

_What in the name of ... _?

"Snape," Lupin's voice called tersely. "She's coming 'round."

Suddenly, a rough, cold hand was patting her cheek none too gently. "Emily? Emily!" Severus snapped quietly. "Wake up this instant! I need to know what happened, before..."

Irritably, she batted his hand away. "Knock it _off_, Sev!" she growled, bringing a hand to her head to try and rub away the sharp throbbing. "Who did this?"

"Molly Weasley," he returned, obviously a bit more sharply than he intended, for his tone immediately cooled. "Thought you were coming for her child," he finished, handing her a goblet of steaming chocolate. "There's an analgesic in that. Drink it quickly."

Instead, she slammed the cup on the table beside the chair in which she'd been placed. "I'll have you know I saved that girl's life."

"We are well aware of what occurred with Bellatrix." Dumbledore's voice, cutting in from the doorway and unusually petulant, drenched her suddenly in a cold bath. "Including your first abortive attempt to take her life with a curse whose singular use could send a witch to Azkaban for life." The elder wizard rounded the chair in a flurry of robes which, usually sparkling, now shone with a menacing glow, like the last embers of a great fire. "You saved her life. That cannot be denied. But if you imagine for an instant that that absolves you of blame for the manner in which you went about it, particularly with your violent history, you are gravely mistaken."

"Headmaster, please," Lupin broke in anxiously from behind her chair. "She is not the cold-blooded killer you believe her to be. In considering her violent history, specifically the death of her brother, certain peripherals _must_ be taken into account."

Severus' eyes widened in shock at the revelation of Lupin's unexpected knowledge, then narrowed just as quickly, fixing Emily with a malicious glare.

_Oh,_ _Perfect_!

"Remus!" she broke in furiously, not believing that he would so easily betray the trust she had shown him. "Have you gone mad?"

"Emily, you must tell them what happened. You don't understand the danger..."

"That will do, Remus!" she cut in furiously, trying to rise, but held in place by strong hands squeezing her shoulders as if in warning.

Blue eyes, normally so warm and fatherly, now sparked with an inner fire. "I quite agree. This has nothing to do with her brother's murder," Albus said sharply, leveling a dangerous look in her direction. "What has happened to Ronald Weasley?"

"The same thing that happens to any fool who challenges the Dark Lord's chosen," she spat, too tired to give a damn about her tone.

The fire in his eyes sputtered. "He isn't..."

"Dead," she finished with a savage indifference.

White lids closed over blue eyes as the wizened head bowed in sorrow, then slowly, he rose. "It's as we feared," he whispered brokenly to Remus whose hands now lightly stroked her hair as if to offer silent comfort. "I will go and ... inform them."

"What of Emily?" Severus asked.

"Miss Grey remains in your custody," Dumbledore returned angrily. "_Unarmed_." Her heart skipped a beat. This wasn't a promising beginning. "On your life, Severus Snape, if she procures a weapon or more floo powder. If she escapes..."

"She will not," he answered tightly, a dangerous edge to his voice. "Not again."

"She will remain in your custody until the task is complete," the Headmaster continued coldly. "Remus will be joining you tomorrow morning to assist. You will go nowhere. You will do nothing except seek and destroy the last circle. When the assignment is completed, I will gather the Wizengamot and we will decide whether Miss Grey will return to Azkaban to complete her sentence."

"Headmaster..." Severus began furiously.

"Severus Snape," Dumbledore cut in quietly, in a tone which, nevertheless, brooked no argument. "She is far too quick to leap into darkness, to take the easiest path." He shook his head slowly, studying her carefully. "She has blinded us all to the truth of what she is. While she is not a malevolent witch, Miss Grey made her choice long ago. And that has left us with little choice at all." His gaze returned to Severus, then, his eyes gentle once more. "I am truly sorry, Severus, but she does not possess your strength of character, and I do not feel that she can be trusted with the freedom you so greatly desire for her."

A wrinkled hand rested for a moment on the potion master's shoulder. "That is my final word on the matter."

* * *

**coffeedreams:**

Wow, thanks, coffeedreams! I really appreciate the good word. Sweeties like you just keep me typing.

**Oya:**

Large Mansion. Impervious meeting room. Sorry. No can do. Sigh. If only my character's lives were that simple. Nah. You guys would be bored to tears and not read my work any more. Then I'd get all depressed and eat lots of chocolate and stop working out and start watching TV (yuck) and my hair would fall out and ... oh ... heh heh. Sorry.

**bluebird161221**:

Dinatyne: No brain-zapping... this time. The Weasley kids are really that dumb. I'm tickled pink that you enjoy the relationship between Sev and Emily. I hoped that it would at least be unique. I assure you that you're not the only one whose glad I'm back. I missed you guys like crazy!

**Elessar Evenstar**:

Well, I'm thrilled that you enjoyed it. I know I had fun writing it. Thank you so much for the compliments. If those don't keep my fingers typing, nothing will. I'm so glad that you're so warm toward the dark side. I know I'm a fan. Find it in your heart to forgive Emily. She's trying to hold on to the most difficult man in the world. Poor girl. Thanks for the good word and invitation to chat. I may just take you up on that. My life has been put back in order now and I'm starting to merge back onto my own highway. Soon, I'll be back up to par. Yay, me!

**Sesshomaru's Angel:**

I'm glad you're feeling better, sweetie. Hope this update was fast enough for you.

**dalamis**:

Thank you for the kind words. I hope that you continue to enjoy the story. Reviewers like you are the reason I write.

**Winter Celchu**:

Hi. Thanks for chiming in. I really appreciate the compliments. I'm fond of cliffies, and I'd apologize but I just, in good conscience, do so. Messing with my readers is just too fun.

**Lady Jenilyn**:

Oh, come on, at least he took her virginity in a warm, fuzzy way. That's about all the fuzz I can stand without choking. I know what Severus would have answered had Fawkes not interrupted, but I'm not telling. As for the Order, hmm... I suppose I'll say that I can't see Emily joining the Order, particularly now. Of course, whether she doesor not is entirely up to her. I'm just the storyteller. Thanks for being there for me during this insanity, sweetie. Just knowing that you were out there and that you cared made a big difference.

**1lonelyangel**:

Thanks for the good word. You're right. Jenilyn usually has the proper measure of things. That's why her own story is so great! Hopefully this chapter answered your questions about why Death Eaters were in the house. Whoa! Those do look kinda like a single sentence. That's freaky. I think I have located that convenient opening you wanted.

**sevrox**:

Wow. That's a lot of info and inquiries in such few words. I'm glad to be back as well. I missed you guys. Glad you liked the love scene. I always enjoy writing them. The man in the portrait was a Weasley ancestor, probably hung up in one of their rooms now that they're staying at Grimmauld Place. I'm so pleased that the Alex stories are such a hit. I am outlining a third and final story which I'll begin when this one is finished. Hope to see you there.

**emerald sparrow**:

I'm thrilled to be back as well, sparrow. I have missed you guys like crazy. Hope this update was fast enough.

**Captain Oblivious!**:

Ginny deserved the smack on the head. She really was that stupid. I can relate to not being overly fond of the more technical side of English. Grammar is not a huge problem for me, but my spelling sucks! I can only hope that I'm a "POOF" English teacher when I finish. Thanks for the good word, Captain O.


	33. Chapter ThirtyThree: A Long Walk

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Chapter Thirty-Three: A Long Walk

They made their way back to Hogwarts in grim silence, Emily glancing occasionally to the side at her taciturn escort who hadn't spoken a word since Dumbledore had made his terrifying proclamation about her future. Worse yet, his hooded, black eyes revealed nothing of his thoughts.

When they arrived at the dungeons, he led her to her own room, stopped at the door, and finally turned to meet her questioning gaze. For a moment he hesitated, then seemed to settle his resolve.

"I sent word ahead to Liri to prepare your room," he said blankly.

She opened her mouth to question him, but the words stuck in her throat as the door swung open on a sight whose implications turned her stomach.

The room was almost completely bare save for her bed. The cheery hearth had been walled up entirely, and the single window high above still shimmered slightly from a heavy ward. Her once warm and cozy boudoir had been turned into, for want of a better word, a cell, driving home as nothing else could the fact that she was a prisoner once more.

"Sev," she whispered turning back to her enigmatic friend.

He shook his head ruefully. "In," he whispered, turning his gaze away as if he couldn't bear to look in her eyes.

Gods, it was awful! Tragic to see the cold mask that he usually wore for others thrown over his features now to hide his heart from her. She didn't argue, more concerned with his pain than her own, just made her way into the cold chamber and turned, expecting the door to be closed in her face.

To her surprise, he followed her in, sealing the door behind them, pacing the length of the walls, testing the wards, searching for anything that may have remained hidden from Liri.

"I'm not going anywhere, Severus," she assured him calmly. "I wouldn't do that to you."

At the sound of her words, he stopped his search to turn and face her. "Is that so?" he asked quietly, his voice so full of unexpressed pain that it startled her. "And the pocketful of floo powder you just happened to bring to Headquarters?"

"Proved damned useful," she finished, a slight edge cutting into her tone against her will.

"Two wands, one of them illegal, a bag of floo powder, an Unforgivable curse - all discovered _directly_ after I assured the Order that you were relatively trustworthy at best; at the least, fully under my control." He sighed deeply, staring at the wall over her left shoulder, a habit he normally reserved for those whose presence he could barely tolerate. "Do you have any idea how many years of established trust your 'heroics' have cost me?"

"My 'heroics,' and I resent the use of that term, saved a child's life tonight."

"I am well aware of the benefit of your actions," he snapped. The tone seemed to startle him, and he returned to his cold manner immediately. "But you, as usual, seem wholly unable to grasp the more subtle implications."

"You would've preferred that I do nothing?" she asked, her tone unexpectedly even. "Because I'm beginning to agree with you. After all, what have my 'heroics' gained us in the past? Every time I've acted with my heart as opposed to my brain it's resulted in nothing but disaster. So, just tell me that I did the wrong thing, Sev - because that's all the reassurance I need to begin listening to reason once more. And the path of reason leads right back to our master."

"Don't," he roared, slamming his fist down on her bare dressing table, "even initiate that discussion!" He released a shivery breath, seeming to fear his mounting rage. "I will take you back to Azkaban myself," he finished in a hiss.

She deliberately took a moment to step back, to allow him to regain his composure. However logical he was the majority of the time, Severus was a deadly wizard when he was provoked to anger. But with his emotions running this high, he was also damnably easy to manipulate.

After what seemed like an eternity, his breath returned to normal, his black eyes closed and his fists unclenched. The fingers of his left hand were still shaking a bit as the rage cooled, but that could be overlooked. Cautiously, she approached him, thrilled when he stood his ground, and slipped her hand ever-so-softly in his, closing her fingers to stop the shaking.

"It doesn't have to be this way, my love," she whispered carefully, close enough that he could feel her breath on his cheek. "The Order is using you and you know as well as I do that none of them will mourn when the charade ends, when you are discovered and destroyed. And you know you will be" He opened his mouth to protest and she cut him off with tiny, feathered kisses. "Don't, my love. Don't deny what you know to be true. The Dark Lord is no fool, and neither are his chosen. I know how difficult it's been for you, concealing everything you feel from both sides." Idly, she brushed a stray hair from his lovely eyes. "However much they've taken from you, you still have the freedom to be honest with yourself. And I ... well, I am practically a part of you. We have ever been truthful with one another. There was a time when you trusted me, when I was _your_ Emily and no one else mattered." She smiled tenderly. "Do you remember?"

Was that a gathering of moisture in the corners of his eyes as he inclined his head in answer, still refusing to look her way?

No. It was gone. Only her imagination.

Still, he was wavering. She could feel it.

Just a little further.

"They would destroy that, Severus. They would destroy us." A second hand caressed his arm, trying to ease the tension beneath his sleeve. "Don't let them win. I love you, and I know you love me. You don't need to say it." She touched her lips to his cheek, trailed tiny kisses along his strong jaw, then back to his unresponsive mouth. "Please, love, come home with me while we can still have a life together. Lucius has turned the Dark Lord's favor in our direction. How much more could we gain by ..."

The fingers around her hand released instantly, and she bit down hard on her lip to keep from cursing him aloud.

_Damn. _

Too far, too fast.

Always too eager to have her own way. _And now, he was released from her spell._

Quickly, he stepped out of her embrace, chin lifting in stubborn refusal. Finally, his eyes fell to hers and the look of betrayal there made her immediately ashamed of her actions. For a long while, he studied her in silence, then his right hand closed about his left, sliding her ring from his finger. Lifting her own hand, he transferred the token to her, and closed her fingers tightly around it.

"I am ... honored by your interest," he said stiffly. "But, I cannot accept this."

She wanted to protest, wanted to plead with him to return as he turned his back to leave, but the negligible weight of the ring in her hand seemed to render her speechless.

Finally, before he could close the door, her tongue was loosed.

"Do you think anyone else will ever love you?" she called to his retreating form. "To the rest of the world, you're just a snake .... just like me. A revolting creature, but you have your uses, and they will most certainly exploit them. I'm the only one who understands, Severus. I'm the only one who ever could."

A barely perceptible smile crept across his features as he turned back to her. "I accepted all of this long ago. You are the one who needs to come to terms with it." For a moment, he glanced down at the ring in her open palm. "I do love you, Emily. And, if you truly love me in return, you will not leave this room tonight."

With a slight obeisance, he left, closing the door behind him, carefully and conspicuously walking away without casting a ward.

* * *

Severus studied a smallish tome of ancient Egyptian curses for well over an hour before shrouding himself in a cloaking spell and slipping out of his rooms to the study. Emily's door was still closed and she was still within. He could hear the rustle of cloth as she paced like a cat, her bare feet making no sound on the stone floor.

He had purposely left the room unwarded, knowing that the woman was foolish enough to believe that he still trusted her. She would leave, there was no doubt of that. She couldn't sleep, not with the kind of strain she was under at present. There were really only two unanswered questions. Would she leave in a spirit of treachery, forcing him to stop her? Or would she simply widen her terrain for pacing, innocently extending her restless path along the halls?

He was hoping with all his heart for the latter, but, knowing her as he did, his gold was on the former. If she stayed, she would likely be sent back to Azkaban, and he seriously doubted that her love for him, her concern for his reputation, was strong enough to hold her survival instinct in check.

_Ah_.

_There you are_.

The sound of a stealthy hand on the door, waiting, listening, attempting to ascertain through straining senses whether the room without was empty.

He shrank into the shadows, knowing that even with a concealing spell his detection was possible. Like him, Emily always suspected treachery, was overly wary to the point of paranoia. But within the Dark Lord's circle, paranoia would keep you alive when all else failed. It was well-founded apprehension. Emily was more a fool than he, that was certain, but no great fool - not like most.

She tarried at the door a long while before finally giving it a deliberate tug. Silently, it swung inward, revealing an obviously exhausted, red-eyed witch who stared around the room in wary stillness, then crept to his own chamber door and raised her hand to knock.

A thrill of alarm shot through him. That she would leave the room to speak to him was a contingency for which he hadn't planned. Sweet Merlin, what to do? If he didn't answer her summons, she would most certainly think the worst.

Heart's blood pounding in his ears as he berated his shortsightedness and her damnable lack of predictability, he watched her hand fall short of its mark and freeze before it made a sound. For a moment she stood as if petrified, trying to make up her mind, then slowly brought her palm to rest silently on the heavy oak and leaned her head against it, her face so full of misery that he had to look away.

Had he known that bringing her out of Azkaban would cause her this kind of pain, he would've left her in her cell. At least there she had been oblivious to her own suffering. And how could he explain that his intentions had, for once, been pure? That he had wanted only the best for her? That he still did? That he still planned to fight for her freedom after Albus had time to come to terms with the knowledge that he was acting out of prejudice against all who bore the Dark Mark?

Such thoughts were difficult to express, overpowered as they were by his sense of betrayal which ran so deep that it cut into his very core. How? How could she have told, of all people, Remus Lupin the secret that she'd been hiding from the world, from _him_, for sixteen years? A secret she'd gone without protest to Azkaban to protect? What was it about Remus that she found so much more trustworthy than her own lover - the man to whom she'd proposed marriage only a few hours ago?

Oh, Gods, it seemed a lifetime ago, that perfectly shocking moment when she'd presented her Father's ring to him and asked him to spend his life with her. It was unbelievable to him that, for a few glorious seconds, he'd actually considered accepting and damn the consequences. But decisions like that could never be made in haste. It was a matter which required the utmost consideration. And now ... now the thought of accepting was so inappropriate that he couldn't even contemplate it. When she came to herself again, he would speak with her about it, would explain why they would need to delay the discussion of marriage at least until the war ended, maybe longer.

When at last she straightened, the tears which had reddened her eyes were streaming once more as she carefully considered the entrance to his chambers with a forlorn expression, then turned on her heel to leave.

He had to wait until she'd passed well beyond the door before slipping out himself, following far enough away to remain undetected, but close enough to stun her if she attempted to leave the grounds.

For a long while she wandered aimlessly, peering at paintings through the dim torchlight, smoothing her hands over statues as if attempting to memorize their contours. Finally, she arrived in the library, at the place that most of the staff still referred to as Sev and Em's spot - a deeply secluded area behind the restricted section where they used to sit for hours at a time, talking and reading and making plans for the future.

_And, who was to know that our lives would come to this?_ Severus thought sadly. _We were so certain of ourselves, that nothing could come between us. Nothing would ever change._

_Who could have anticipated the Dark Lord and the ruin he would bring on us all? _

For a long time, Emily sat in her old chair , staring across the table at the place Severus once habitually occupied. He didn't wonder what she saw, knew instinctively that she was walking through her memories, seeing him as he was years ago: a bitter, skinny, awkward teenager. No friends, no family to speak of - just Emily, ever his salvation and his light.

And, how he had wanted to save her in turn. But when he had reached to take her hand, to pull her out of harm's way, she had shied from it, turned back to the comfort of darkness, the surety of power. And what disturbed him the most was that he understood. Even tonight, when she'd suggested that they return to the Dark Lord together, that they betray the Order, he'd felt the irresistible tug of bittersweet temptation.

It would have been so easy. The entire future lay in his hands and he knew it. Were he to turn his back on Dumbledore, the Order would fall and he would be honored above all of the Dark Lord's chosen. Yet, this gained him nothing within The Order's ranks, no respect from the members, no appreciation for the risks he took. They saw only the Mark of the Dark Lord and where that Mark brought him honor and glory in one circle, it afforded him only hatred and mistrust in the other.

Ultimately, Emily was right. To the rest of the world he was a snake, and only Emily would ever understand what that meant.

Gods, how he loved her, so much so that it ached! And, at this rate, he would never get the chance to explain.

At least she appeared to be staying within the castle walls. He had expected her to make a dash for the gates, but so far she seemed content to wander as if in a dream.

And now she was moving once more, rising from her chair and slipping out of the library as if she'd just remembered she had a class.

He followed tenaciously as she strolled up the castle stairways, stopping occasionally to lean over the railings and look down. _Funny that heights never seem to trouble her unless she's outdoors_, he mused.

Finally, her steps led her to the Divination tower. Curiously enough, when she approached, the ladder unfurled from above as if inviting her in. With a furrowed brow, she grabbed the ladder and ascended gracefully. Severus opted to levitate through the trapdoor as it opened.

Through the crowded room she weaved, between the small round tables and poufs, curiously fingering the multicolored, glittering scarves that draped over every available surface.

_That's true_, Severus thought wryly. _She's never experienced the great mystifying enigma that is Sybil Trelawney._ He almost snorted. _Fortunate woman._

Once she was clear of the ridiculous arrangement that constituted a learning environment she stopped, studying the enormous office beyond, which more resembled a mystic's parlor than a professional educator's workplace. The door was wide open, which would've surprised Severus but for the wild rush with which everyone had fled the morning after the attack. Securing office doors had not been the highest priority.

His lips turned up in an ironic smile. He, however, had gotten the lecture of his life from Albus for staying behind to lock and ward every door in his chambers and offices before leaving the dungeons.

For a moment, Emily stared, seeming to debate the worth of moving forward. When she did, he was close, closer on her heels than he cared to be, but the limited space allowed for little option.

Delicately, she padded through the door into the center of the room where she was promptly swallowed whole by a blinding white light.

Had it been anyone else, Severus would've stopped to think. But at that moment, he knew only blind horror. Emily had found the last rune, had walked directly through its invisible borders, and she was wholly unarmed and helpless within.

An instant later, his heart clenching painfully in his chest, he plunged in after her.

* * *

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Oya:

I'm very comfortable with your not minding that the little twit is dead. And, yeah. I really wanted to show a different side to Dumbledore. He's too damn twinkly-eyed and sweet to be the leader of what is basically a military resistance. I think that when the kids are not around a different side of his personality may be seen.

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Dianatyne:

Thanks. I was waiting for that. I'm not at all surprised that you were surprisingly not surprised. I don't keep my hatred of ickle Ronnikins very bottled up. As I mentioned in this chapter, I think that Dumbledore is acting out of his usual prejudice against not only Slytherins, but also Death Eaters. It is possible that, given time to consider, he will realize this and reevaluate his feelings. After all, I don't think he's unreasonable, just human. Hope the update didn't take too long, sweetie.

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Elessar Evenstar:

I understand. The "light side" can be damnably pig-headed sometimes. It's so easy to despise the noble little do-gooders. I agree with you wholeheartedly about Heart of Darkness. I hated that book. Hated it! Actually, books of that nature are on the list of reasons that I decided to teach middle grades instead of high school. I lack a certain fondness for the more "sophisticated" forms of literature. It flatters me to no end that you look forward to my updates, keeps my fingers typing when I'm too tired to continue.

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Lady Jenilyn:

What is with this strange connection you and I seem to have? Oh, who cares? I just hope it continues. It's kinda fun. I thought that it would be fun to just kill Ron in the backhanded, casual manner that Cedric was done in. It adds insult to injury. But imagining him tortured to death at the hands of Death Eaters is even more fun, I think. As for Dumbledore's behavior, I think that your theory here is another layer added to the reasons I gave to Oya and Dianatyne. She is, as a few readers have noted, not the most stable creature, but I never intended for her to be entirely sane. Her father tortured to death because of her mistakes, killing her own brother, all those years cooped up and drugged in Azkaban, suicide attempts - they do things to you. As far as the truth that Lupin was about to spill, in a chapter or so, you'll find out. Which means that, unfortunately, the story's almost over. Quick! Get the chocolate. I'm about to be really depressed.

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Sesshumaru's Angel:

I'm glad you approve, dear. I hated him, too, but I think I've mentioned that a time or two ... or six hundred. The truth about Eric's death is coming in a chapter or two. Sit tight.

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dalamis:

It's so good to see that you and I seem to share a love for Severus. I feel sorry for him too, especially in this chapter. Your English is very good, dalamis. May I ask you what your native language is?

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Queen of the Faeries:

I think you have a good bead on Dumbledore's view of things, but then you always seem to pick out the more subtle aspects of the story, things even I sometimes miss. That's so groovy. I'll go ahead and ease your mind right now, sweetie, without ruining the plot. I hate sad endings, too. There are enough of those in real life to keep me well and truly occupied with heartbreak.

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Lexi:

Wow. Thanks for the compliments. I'm so glad you're enjoying the story! I promise you that I will keep typing to the bitter end ... not that the end will necessarily be bitter, but ... yeah. I'm going to back away slowly from that subject before I give away the whole darn story. Good to have you, Lexi.

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1lonelynagel:

You poor dear. I think that you're the only one to express unhappiness over Ron's death. I'm sorry that it upset you, but I have to admit I enjoyed killing him immensely. I really hate Ron, and while I'm not remotely sorry about that, I am sorry that his death disturbed you. You're one of my sweetest reviewers and I don't like to upset sweet people. Forgive me, dear. On an up-note, I'm thrilled to hear that you're reading Lady Jenilyn's story. It's a really twisty plot with great characterization. I highly recommend it. I agree with you about not sending Emily back to Azkaban. I personally think that she's earned her freedom. On the other hand, I can see Dumbledore's point about not trusting her. She doesn't have your average set of ethics. Hope the update didn't take too long. I got really busy this week. Oh! I almost forgot. That convenient opening you asked for in which I tell you how Sev and Em survived being burned alive, it's coming in the next chapter. (Escaped sticks out her tongue and raspberries angel.) Now, you _have_ to keep reading even if you're mad at me.

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Lalala:

Sorry that you think my character is an ass. Perhaps if you looked at her through this vantage point: She joins Voldemort to prove herself to the man she loves, gets a little loopy from the rush of power, directly disobeys the order to kill her brother and barely escapes with her life causing the Death Eaters to torture her father to death. She kills her own brother (tell you why in a few chapters), and is thrown in Azkaban for sixteen years where she is fed a steady diet of sedatives after several suicide attempts. If she seems erratic, it's because she's truly not all there. As far as my fascination with "patriarchal control" goes, that's a take it or leave it aspect of my work. To put it bluntly, I like it rough, really rough, so that's what I write. Occasionally, I'll slip in some romantic, vanilla lovin' such as the scene in which Severus takes her for the first time, but it won't happen often. Period. No apologies. Emily is submissive to Severus in bed. She enjoys being submissive to him. I urge you to let go of your preconceived concepts about BDSM and read up on it. It's not as twisted as you might think. You're not perverted because you don't get off on my "violent" love scenes, sweetie. You just go for a different kind of sex. No big deal. Different strokes and all that. Thanks for your review. Hope this cleared a few things up.

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sevrox:

Oh, don't get me wrong. I like questions. You're the reader. You deserve to have your questions answered. That's why I do this. A lot of people seemed pretty happy about Ron's death, so you're not alone there.

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Lynette:

Thanks! I'm glad you enjoyed it. I can't apologize for the cliffie. I just love 'em! You guys are so cute hanging onto the edge with your fingertips turning blue. I just can't resist!

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Captain Oblivious!:

Of course I killed Ron. I hate Ron. Ron sucks - excuse me, sucked. Heh-heh. As for Ginny, yeah the kid's definitely going to need therapy, but I've always seen her as such a strong character, I think she'll hold her own. I'll turn my head while you bash the children. They deserve it. By the way, you're a doll when you're being spastic.


	34. Chapter Thirtyfour: Memories

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Chapter Thirty-Four: Memories

Severus was in agony, his body radiating heat and smoke, his nostrils full of the reek of his own blazing skin and hair as he became the inferno which consumed him. Only the burning existed and the deafening noise of his own screams as his body was slowly incinerated.

And then ... suddenly ... it stopped.

Rapidly, his body began to cool and his skin to heal.

Instinctively, his head lolled to the side, his eyes searching for Emily. Green eyes met black in a tentative, terrified glance as they silently assured themselves that the other was alive. They could risk no more, though he could see that she wanted to say as much as he. After a far-too-brief moment, their gazes fell away, one from the other, and were drawn inexorably to their savior.

Lord Voldemort was paying them no more heed, though, as his attentions turned from his rapidly-healing Death Eaters to their would-be murderer. Beneath his cold glare, Lucius Malfoy lay petrified, open-mouthed and staring furiously.

"Lucius," he hissed in a voice that drew fingers of ice down Snape's spine. "I understood when I claimed you that you were ambitious, but murdering your fellow Death Eaters..."

Severus looked on in wonder as Malfoy's mouth moved, actually fought the petrification enough to form itself into an "O" as if to answer the accusation. He couldn't help but be impressed that Lucius possessed the strength of will to do such a thing.

With a quick flick of his wrist, the Dark Lord released the spell. "You appear to have something to say, my friend."

"Grey disobeyed a direct order, Master," Lucius spat, clearly infuriated by this treatment, "and destroyed our alliance with the werewolves of Derring Woods. Because of _him,_" he finished viciously, turning his cold, gray glare on Severus..

The sharp eyes of Voldemort narrowed and flicked over to the witch who lay curled on her side, still gasping for breath, then returned to Lucius.

Severus fought back the intuitive urge to curl his body around his friend and whisper comforting charms into her lovely spill of hair until she quieted, just as he had countless times when they were young.

But even if they weren't being watched, she would likely push him away.

Gods, if he had only known what would come of refusing her, of shunning her affection. He had only wanted what was best for her.

Or had he?

Was that really the truth?

Or had he, instead, only been too proud to go to her father and reason with him, too humiliated at the thought of facing the inevitable disappointment in Lord Grey's eyes when he learned of Snape's intentions toward his only daughter?

The two men had had an understanding for years that nothing could ever come of his being so close to Emily, that they could nurture their friendship in any way they chose, as long as Severus never became intimate with her, as long as she remained free to marry a man worthy of the Grey name.

Severus was beneath Emily. He'd known it since childhood - thought he had accepted it. But now, watching her as she rose, trembling, to her knees before their Master, he realized his mistake. He loved her. And, if Malfoy's insinuation was to be believed, she still loved him. He had been a fool to let her go, to allow her father and his obsession with powerful and uncorrupted bloodlines to keep them apart. It was a damning mistake, one from which they may never recover. But he made up his mind at that moment that, if they survived this day, he would return to her, would make her listen.

If there was even the slightest chance that she could still be his, he would take it.

His mind set itself to its new course, barely listening as Lucius defended his actions to the Dark Lord. For a long while, he made careful plans, fully trusting his ears to hear and file away any pertinent information in Malfoy's ill-tempered speech. _Sweet Merlin_, only a Malfoy would be so bold as to speak to the Dark Lord in such a haughty manner, and only Lucius could get away with it.

"I believe I understand." Severus shivered as the Dark Lord's voice slithered over him. His tone was pleasant, far more so than the situation could ever warrant, and it filled Severus with a sense of great foreboding. A long, bony hand stretched down toward Emily and she took it without hesitation, allowing the Dark Lord to pull her to her feet.

"Emily, my dear child," he purred silkily, cupping her cheek gently in his palm. "My wretched, wayward little girl. Is Lucius telling the truth? Are you ... in love with my Potions Master?" he asked with a pronounced sneer.

Severus cringed as Emily gazed adoringly into her master's eyes and shook her head in denial, her face full of the awe that she reserved only for him and his nearly immeasurable power. Snape detested that look. He detested her obsession with gaining the Dark Lord's favor, but he detested most not knowing where he was going with this dangerous line of questioning.

"I am relieved to hear it, my child," their Master continued. "Love is for the weak, pathetic fools who are ruled by emotion rather than strength. Such creatures have no place within my circle."

Emily smiled softly into his face, utterly lost in his words as he continued.

"I will not punish you further for your disobedience," he purred silkily. "But very soon I shall insist upon an act of loyalty from you, further substantiation that you belong only to me. Do you understand why I must insist upon this?"

"Yes, Master," she whispered huskily.

"Then we are finished here. You and Severus are dismissed. I must _discuss_ this incident further with Lucius."

"Thank you, Master," she managed, then moved closer, just a breath closer, and Severus hesitated, froze in mid-obeisance, as she was suddenly wrapped in Voldemort's cold embrace, her head resting in complete trust on the shoulder of evil itself. It was the only time he had seen anyone embrace the Master, and it shocked him so that, for a long moment, he failed to breathe.

Suddenly, the strength was stolen from his limbs as the Dark Lord opened his eyes, cast a black look directly at him over Emily's shoulder ... and smiled. It was a foul grin, one of pure malevolence, just between the two of them, and Snape immediately interpreted the meaning.

Emily's denial of her love for him had meant nothing. Voldemort knew. He knew the truth about both of them. He also knew that Emily was drawn to power as a moth to the flame, and as long as he had the power, he would have her. She was one of his possessions now, and if Severus ever made a move to threaten that, he would die.

Suddenly, his stomach gave a nauseating lurch as a cold chill raced down his spine.

His hands grew ice cold, even as his face was suddenly bathed in sweat.

He began to shake as the picture before him froze, and then began to fade.

Something was wrong.

Something was very, very wrong.

Inexplicably, he saw the future stretching before him - not in a haze of clairvoyance, but with _absolute_ inevitability.

A sickening spasm of deja vu.

He had been here before.

This was not real. This was a memory, one of his worst. The day he knew she had found another love, had given herself over to it entirely. The day he realized that he was powerless to save her.

_But it is only a memory_, he counseled himself sternly. _How did you come to this place in your mind? What do you remember? _

I remember Emily, he thought weakly_. I remember that she was in trouble, and I wanted to help. _

Emily is always in trouble, the rougher, more analytical side argued coldly. _She's a foolish child._ _Put it aside. You need to save yourself first, Professor. _

Professor 

Professor of Potions, Potions _Master_, actually, at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

And that was where he had been only a few minutes ago.

Emily had been in trouble, had run into a room ... No. Into a rune - a circle of runes.

Then the fog lifted, and he remembered.

The last circle. Its runes were woven around the spiritual spire of the pentacle. Emily had shown him just a few days ago. They were runes of dreams and memory and binding.

Dreams.

Memory.

Binding.

_Brilliant, Severus. You walked directly into a trap -dove into it, actually_.

Coldly, he silenced the berating before it could begin. No time for that right now. He had to find Emily before she became lost in her own nightmares.

But, where to begin? Everywhere he looked, he was surrounded by the same, gloomy haze. And, if that were the case, then it didn't really matter which direction he took so long as he got moving. Resolutely, he began to walk, but with his first step the light around him winked out and he was left in absolute darkness.

From that darkness, rose a familiar voice.

"I knew it," Eric Grey hissed, appearing out of the rapidly-lighting mist like the specter he had to be.

Severus fought back the shock and directed his attention to the crouched figure Eric was addressing.

It was a gaunt, haggard-looking Emily, just looking up in astonishment from the enormous, twisting runic circle she'd carved in the vast foyer of the Grey mansion.

She stared a moment, sighed irritably, then returned to her work, imbuing the creation with a familiar-looking black potion, his own Draught of Destruction.

"Get out, Eric," she replied tersely.

"We had an agreement, Em," he said softly, crouching beside her, placing a hand on her arm.

She immediately shook it off, determined to complete her task.

"We had nothing," she snapped. "You agreed to hide. I allowed you to do so."

"You told me you would wait in Ireland until this blew over, or until the Order ..."

"The Order is a pathetic band of ineffectual, self-righteous buffoons. There's nothing they can do to avenge our father ... or to save us."

"And you can?" he asked, frustration creeping into his voice.

"Bloody right, I can," she returned darkly.

Eric cast his eyes to the circle as the potion oozed through the entire design at his twin's coaxing, guiding its movement with her wand, infusing it with astonishing power.

"You're going to kill them?" he asked casually.

"Yes."

"With this?"

"Yes."

"And you expect they'll just ... blunder into it?"

She stopped working long enough to glare at him out of the corner of her eye. "It's designed to _draw_ them in, and when I'm finished, if you will _allow_ me to finish, it won't be visible."

He rose to his feet, studying her carefully as she continued to work.

"You realize he'll be among them?" he asked softly.

She stopped again, sighed, and lowered her wand. Her eyes, however, did not waver in their inspection of the work. "I know," she answered finally.

"You're going to kill him?"

"I don't have a choice," she said blankly.

"He's your best friend," Eric argued. "How can you ..."

"_Was_, Eric," she corrected irritably. "A long time ago. He's nothing but a killer now."

Eric opened his mouth, then closed it, then opened it again as Severus leaned forward to listen more closely, realizing that they were talking about him. Eric knew the truth, that he was a spy for the Order. Had he tried to tell her that night?

"Emily," Eric began carefully. "There are ... things about Severus you don't know. He's ... not exactly what you think he is."

"Eric, stop it!" she snapped, rising to her feet to face him. "Stop deluding yourself! I know what's going on. I know what you feel for him." She paused, took his hand, and held it uncomfortably as she continued in a much more subdued tone. "I'm sorry, Eric. I know what being in love with him feels like. I know how it hurts. I understand."

"No," he interrupted firmly. "You don't. You don't know ... "

"I know all I need to know," she said tightly. "I know that he's one of them. I know that he killed our father, and I know that he and Lucius are coming back for us ... _Tonight_. They are two of the deadliest wizards alive. The Dark Lord will be crippled without them. As a member of the Order, that should be your first priority."

Eric was shaking his head, his hand moving to his hip where his wand rested. "I can't let you kill him, Emily."

With a whispered incantation, she set the potion moving within the runes again. This time, allowing it to flow at its own pace. "The circle is activated, Eric. You can't stop it, and you don't have the power to stop me." Her eyes flicked down to his hand, moving ever closer to his wand.

"Don't," she said firmly. "It doesn't have to come to that." She took a step forward. "Can't you see I'm doing this for you? For us? We'll be free again, Eric, free from thetaint, the abominationof love."

"I am not tainted because I am in love," he returned harshly, his voice rising above its usual quiet resonance. "It is not a sickness or a weakness. If anything, loving him has made me stronger, because I know that I can never have him." His shook his head and smiled sadly. "He loves you, Emily. He always will."

"Well ..." she swallowed thickly. "It's a bit late for that."

"It's not too late, Emily, for any of us," he replied, his tone much sharper than usual. "And I'm not going to allow you to kill the one man who could save us all."

Her brow furrowed, trying to discern his meaning as, for a moment, they stared in silence, the tension between them stretching to the breaking point.

Then both wands raised as one.

Their cries were intermingled so that it was impossible to tell who cast what spell, but Emily fell backward, her wand sailing toward the front door, her head barely missing the edge of the circle. Still, somehow, she managed to catch Eric's wand as it sailed obediently toward her and the air was split with a pronounced SNAP as she broke it in half.

She was back on her feet in an instant.

"Have you lost your mind?!" she shouted. "Are you trying to kill me?!"

His eyes darted from the ruined bits of wood in her hand to his sister's livid face. Slowly, his skin began to color with rage.

"I _am_ thinking, Emily," he growled, pacing slowly toward her, pinning her against the runes at her heels. "I'm thinking ... better you - _better both of us_ - than him."

* * *

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Queen of the Faeries:

Interesting. I really appreciate your honesty. I hate to think that things were getting repetitious. (Escaped winces) Sorry about that. My bad. To answer your question, though I'm sure you've figured it out by now, this is the circle from the uppermost point of the pentacle, Spirit.

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Dianatyne:

That was just mean, D ... but funny.

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Elessar Evenstar:

You are too flattering, sweetie. Yeah. You have to love Severus even he's acting the love-sick clod. You know, aimless pondering about what would happen if I were in a fic was what prompted the writing of my first story (Ahem).

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1lonelyangel:

I hope that this answered your question, my dear. And I hope that the simple answer was worth the wait. I was listening to History of Us by the Indigo Girls while I wrote that chapter. It's a very drippy song and never fails to bring tears to my eyes. It was also quite poignant. Damn. Now that you mention it, I should've included the lyrics at the beginning of the chapter. I'm such a clod!

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Sesshomaru's Angel:

Just one more chapter and we'll flush out the whole Eric story. And, just as a side-note, but a very important one: Watch where you're flinging that term, dear heart. You're liable to hurt someone. Quite a few of my friends are "fags." It's not a reason to kill off a character because it's not a negative trait. You note that I, myself, am bisexual. I'm fairly sure that you didn't mean anything horrid by saying it, dear, but be careful. You came close to insulting me and most of my entourage. Cheers!

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bluebird1611221:

Your compliments take my breath away. If you're looking for some good writing, check out Lady Jenilyn's story, "Mirror of My Dreams." It's wonderful.

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dalamis:

I look forward to checking out your work. It won't be tonight, but perhaps tomorrow I can take a good, long look. Yay! I'm excited!

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Captain Oblivious!:

You're so cute when you fall over twitching. It's always complicated being evil, especially if you're trying to be a socially-acceptable evil person. Then you have to have all sorts of angsty reasons for your anti-social behavior. But, it's worth the trouble. Happily, I was sorted into Ravenclaw. Much, much easier to deal with. Careful where you're pointing that waffle iron! You make me nervous with that thing!

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Aerith luva:

Holy crap! You read the whole thing in a day?! Wow! I'm officially impressed! Thanks for the good word. I really appreciate it!

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Lady Jenilyn:

Wow. You have such an understanding of the way those two think. I'm not sure of it's so much good writing (blush!) on my part or deep insight into the characters on yours. Let's call it a great deal of both and celebrate over some mint rum! I'm sure you could use a drink. I know I could. Rough week. I have a friend who's in dire straights and I'm at my wit's end trying to help. Hopefully all your questions will be answered in the next few chapters ... and then my story will come to an end. **Sigh**. Oh, yeah. I need a drink.


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